


The Prince and the Seamstress

by KawaiiKekeChan



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: AU, Ancient China, F/M, Origins
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2018-09-22 13:04:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 38,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9608720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KawaiiKekeChan/pseuds/KawaiiKekeChan
Summary: [Who were the first Miraculous holders?]Mei and her parents move to the Imperial Palace to work in the kitchens. She falls in love at first sight with the Crown Prince, a beautiful young man who has recently lost his mother.And at night, a malignant dark spirit called Black Cat roams the grounds…





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Although this *is* an AU, the main characters will be loosely based on Adrien and Marinette, in order to keep the dynamic that we recognise! So there will be Ladrien, Adrienette, Marichat and Ladynoir, just under different names.
> 
> Also, I’ll be using some Chinese, rather than French, so here are the main terms you’ll need to know:
> 
> Mei (the main female character, based on Marinette): red gem 
> 
> Liang (the main male character, based on Adrien): bright/good excellent
> 
> Kitty/Chat: Mao-mi
> 
> Princess: Gongzhu
> 
> This is going to be a bit of an epic: I have most of the plot planned already, and aim for longer chapters than usual, so my updates should be more satisfying! There will be several nods to Hamlet, and you should be able to recognise other Miraculous characters in their Ancient Chinese guises!

**This story focuses on the ‘original’ Miraculous holders, aka the very first ones to ever possess the ring and the earrings. I’m sure this will be revealed in later seasons, but I’ve yet to see a fic that discusses how the Miraculous ‘came to be’, so I thought this would tide me over until next season!**  
  
**Due to the nature of this story, it will be set in Ancient China. I have done some research, and decided to set it loosely in the Tang Dynasty: Although I studied clothing, hairstyles, customs etc, there’s a lot more info about females than males, and some rather conflicting info depending how far into the Dynasty you are, so do forgive any errors!**

**And yes, I will still update my other stories! I just had to get this beast off my chest...**

 

* * *

 

 

Mei hated the palace as soon as she set eyes on it. Overly large and ornate, everything about it screamed wealth and extravagance. It was a far cry from the small village they had travelled from, where everyone bathed in the same stream, and children ran barefoot through the fields.

She followed meekly behind her parents as they were led to the servant quarters. The women of the palace stared at her as they passed by, giggling behind painted fans. Their skin was as pale like the moon, and pink blush dotted their cheeks. Their dark hair was piled into intricate buns, decorated with flower pins. Mei touched the friendship bracelet that the girls of her village had given her before she had left. It was made of painted beads and string, but it was the most precious thing she owned. She felt rather shabby in her hemp and fur travelling clothes, with her hair in simple twin twists. Mei had never owned makeup, and neither did she know how to use it. As the ladies of the court glided away, she noticed their low necklines and blushed. She was glad commoners weren’t allowed to show such cleavage, since she didn’t have anything to display.

They were walking along the outdoor porch that connected the palace rooms, when suddenly their guide stopped and dropped to his knees. Mei’s parents immediately followed suit, and so she copied them, without actually being sure why. There was a procession passing by, headed by a young man in white robes. His long hair was glossy like lacquer, and the small bun atop his head was decorated with a simple silver hairpiece. Mei had never seen a man with such beautiful hair before. As the procession swept by, she looked up under her lashes, and managed to sneak a look at his face. There was anger there, his cheeks taunt with tension, his lips pressed together.

Mei immediately flushed, and touched her face to the ground. A few moments later, their guide asked them to rise.

“Who was that, may I ask?" Mei’s mother inquired.

Their guide smiled. “Why, that was our very own Crown Prince.”

Mei felt her ears roar, as the blood seemed to rush backwards in her veins. So that was what a prince looked like?

“So sad, losing the Empress so suddenly,” Mei’s mother said, as they proceeded to the servants’ quarters, in the south wing of the palace.

“Indeed,” their guide nodded, stroking his grey moustache. “The young Prince has been most heartbroken. He was very close to his mother. Only today did the Emperor reject his request to travel across the land.”

“Why does he wish to leave?” Mei’s father questioned.

“A change of scene, perhaps? Or maybe he just feels trapped here. The Emperor is strictest on him, and even more so since losing his wife.”

Mei thought about the angry face of the Prince, and realised that perhaps living like royalty wasn’t as easy as it seemed.

 

* * *

 

“Here we are!” their guide, who had introduced himself simply as Fu, welcomed them into the servants’ quarters. “This area is specifically for the kitchen staff. I managed to acquire a private room for yourselves, since you are a family. It is a little small, but I believe it will meet your needs. There is a wash house located outside.”

“It’s very…cosy…” Mei’s mother enthused. Truthfully, the room was smaller than their hut at home, but it was warm and well-decorated. The straw matting was fresh and clean, and pallets were rolled neatly at the side. There was a large wooden storage box, and their luggage, a few cloth sacks, had already been delivered.

Fu bowed and left them to rest after their journey. Mei’s parents would start work in the kitchen the next day, and Mei would help washing the many dishes that the palace went through. It was not a job she looked forward to. She observed her hands in the moonlight that night as she lay in the new bedding, seeing the hard skin and callouses that decorated her palms. She was used to hard labour, but in the fields there was at least sunlight and singing. The thought of being cooped up in the boiling hot kitchen for hours on end made her feel restless.

 

* * *

 

They rose at the hour of the rabbit, and after breakfast, Mei said goodbye to her parents. She had been given the uniform of the kitchen staff, a navy robe with a matching headscarf and simple straw sandals. She tried not despair at how shapeless it was, and mentally made adjustments in her head as she dressed.

Fu introduced her to the girls she would be working with: Ai, Mingzu, and Daiyu. They quickly welcomed her into their group, and showed her the ropes: lighting fires to boil the water, depositing this into the large tin tubs, and stacking the plates neatly to dry.

Only Mingzu was from the city, and so the other girls understood her culture shock of leaving her village. They had darker skin, like hers, but had taken to powdering it paler.

“It’s a pain, sure,” Ai admitted, rubbing her forehead with the back of her hand, since her fingers were soapy. “We wouldn’t have bothered with it when we worked in the rice paddies, right? But here it’s just about manageable.”

“But why?” Mei asked, as she fed the stove more firewood. “I mean, isn’t it expensive? And unbearable in the summer?”

“Why do you think?” Mingzu laughed, wiping her glasses with her sleeve. “The boys here prefer it!”

“Oh,” Mei said stupidly. She had never thought about her appearance in terms of attracting boys: in her village, the girls were all too busy working alongside them to take time to worry about such things.

“Mingzu has her eye on one of the palace musicians,” Ai giggled. “Personally, I can’t see past the Crown Prince. Have you seen him yet, Mei?”

“Yes, yesterday,” Mei replied, feeling her face heat. She was glad to be standing next to the fire, as an excuse for the redness.

“He’s dreamy, right?” Ai sighed. “He’s so kind. He’s been wearing his mourning robes for a month now, even after the Emperor requested him to stop. He really adored the Empress.”

 

* * *

 

Dinner was the main meal of the day, and the girls sat on the floor with the other kitchen staff to enjoy it. Mei was surprised at the variety of dishes and the amount of rice and meat. After greeting her parents and asking about their day, Mei sat down with her new friends, and listened to the gossip that was passed between the staff.

“The black cat was spotted again last night,” one of the cooks, a man with bald head and goatee, told them.

“Really?” Mingzu perked up. “His visits have been quite regular recently, haven’t they?”

“Don’t, Mingzu!” Ai gasped, covering her ears. “It scares me!”

“A cat?” Mei asked, confused, as she helped herself to more rice.

“Not any cat!” Mingzu grinned. “A malignant evil spirit! He seems to haunt the grounds and the city: he is said to bring bad luck, and prey on the flesh of maidens.”

“So cool,” Daiyu laughed.

“It’s not!” Ai cried out. “It’s scary! I would die if I saw him!”

“He only eats beautiful maidens, Ai,” Mingzu teased, elbowing her friend. “I think you are safe…”

“Mean!” Ai scrunched her nose.

“You are very pretty, Ai,” Daiyu smiled gently. “Ignore her.”

“But why is he here?” Mei asked. “Haven’t the palace priests been unable to handle him?”

“He appeared after the Empress’ death,” Mingzhu explained. “People say it’s a bad omen…”

She coughed nervously, and Mei understood. It couldn’t be said out-loud, but some people clearly believed there was something unusual about the Queen’s sudden death. Indeed, even in her small village, the news had been received with shock. The Queen had been young and healthy, and the cause had never been disclosed.

“The priests tried wards, but it didn’t seem to work. So they erected an altar, hoping it would placate the spirit,” the bald cook added.

“Will you show me?” Mei whispered to Mingzhu, who nodded eagerly.

 

* * *

 

They agreed to meet later, when the rest of the staff had retired to their beds. Mei had washed her face and removed the headscarf, combing her hair and fixing it into neat twists once more. She fingered her bracelet as she crept through the silent kitchen. It was amazing how sinister everything seemed in the dark.

“Yo!” Mingzhu tapped her shoulder, making her jump. “Ready?”

Mei nodded confidently, and followed the taller girl through the maze of the kitchen and connecting corridor. They stepped outside into the cool night air. The moon was full in the sky, illuminating the gardens before them.

“It’s in the East,” Mingzhu explained, as they kept close to the walls. “Near the Peacock Palace.”

Mei nodded, trying to commit the information to her mind. There were so many little palaces and gardens within these huge grounds. There were also guards, and although they technically weren’t doing anything wrong, they stayed in the shadows.

“It’ll only cause unnecessary attention,” her friend explained. “Best to keep to ourselves!”

Mei agreed. She hadn’t been here long, and although she had no problem sneaking out at night, she didn’t want to bring her parents unwanted problems.

“There it is,” Mingzhu whispered, indicating to a small shrine in the middle of the garden, under a large tree that had yet to blossom. They crept to the altar, and placed some leftovers that Mei had hidden in her pocket: a steamed bun, an apple and some nuts.

“If it’s a cat spirit, I should have tried to bring fish,” Mei realised, hands on her hips.

“How kind of you to think of me…” a voice spoke up from behind them.

“What?” the girls spun around, and Mingzhu immediately yelped, and took off in a run.

 

* * *

 

 Mei tilted her head, and regarded the spirit before her. He was taller than her, but slim built. There was indeed a black cat mask covering his eyes, and his lips were quirked in a smirk. It was the type of mask Mei had seen at festivals before: usually made of paper, but this one seemed more substantial, as if made of clay. He was head to toe in black: a robe with long sleeves, knotted at the waist, and a chestplate of armour on top, engraved with magical symbols that she had never seen before. Shin-guard boots were tied at his knees, and as he moved forward, she saw a black tail flick behind him. It was the only real sign he wasn’t human, apart from the glowing green eyes behind his mask.

“You didn’t run,” he commented, his voice low and velvet. Mei shrugged, trying to seem more calm than she felt.

“I’m not a great runner,” she replied, watching as the spirit inched closer. His long, dark hair swished behind him, tied up with a black ribbon. Golden bells danged from the ends, and jangled when he moved.

“Oh?” he chuckled, stopping a few inches before her. “You’re not scared?”

“Not really,” Mei admitted, and she realised it was true, though she wasn't sure why. “Besides, I heard you were only interested in eating beautiful maidens…”

“Ahh…” the black cat chuckled. He reached out, and caught her hand, which was playing with her bracelet. Mei blinked as he brought her wrist to his mouth, and she swallowed, able to feel his breath. Her heart began to race, her skin prickling in something not quite fear.

“If I was so inclined, I would devour you in an instant…” the black cat drawled, before placing a kiss on her knuckles. Mei jerked back her hand, his warm mouth on her skin making her jump. His words bounced around her brain, and as she took in their meaning, her cheeks flushed.

"But alas, this steamed bun will have to do..." the spirit grinned, looking towards the offerings.

“You’re…solid?” Mei asked, trying to change the subject, but the cat simply cocked his head, bells tinkling. She took a step forward, and pressed her fingertips against the cold plate of armour.

“What would you have done if I wasn’t?” the black cat asked, showing a little fang.

“I don’t know…” Mei laughed nervously, stepping back. “So, you’re not a spirit, then…”

“Not quite,” he smirked. “That’s why the wards don’t work.”

He wandered past her, his tail flicking out as he inspected the offerings. Mei watched as he took a bite of the steamed bun. He was solid, and he could eat. So what was he?

“You’re the first one,” he said, in-between mouthfuls.

“First one for what?” Mei asked, nervously.

“The first one to touch me,” the black cat replied, chewing carefully.

“Oh,” Mei blinked.

“The others were too scared, I guess,” he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. She noticed a chunky black ring glinting on his finger, and when she focused on it, felt a throb of power.

“Are you cursed?” Mei asked suddenly, and it was the cat’s turn to stare at her, wide-eyed.

“Good guess,” he acknowledged, drawing close to her again. “How could you tell?”

“Your ring…” Mei nodded to it, and the black cat held his hand up, letting her inspect it. “I have a little spirituality training. I can sense the destructive energy coming from it…”

“Try and pull it off,” the black cat offered, green eyes glinting. Mei looked into them, before turning her attention back to the ring. It was stuck tight, no matter how she pulled.

“I thought so,” he sighed. “You’re right. I am cursed. It’s been a month now since the cat god offered his power. He promised me freedom, without explaining the consequences.”

“I see,” Mei said, releasing his hand gently. “Are you stuck like this?”

“No, no,” the black cat laughed. “I can change at will. I’m a human the rest of the time.”

“That’s unusual…” Mei frowned. “Normally, you can’t control a curse.”

He flexed his hand, and his nail elongated and sharpened into claws. Mei couldn’t help her squeak of surprise, and the cat smirked at her.

“I’m still working it out, but… it’s not like I’m possessed by the cat, it’s more like I have his powers.”

“Have you…spoken to anyone else about this?” Mei asked.

“You’re the first one to stick around,” the black cat smirked. “And in my human life…it’s impossible to tell anyone.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Mei said, and the boy was clearly startled.

“You’re strange,” he told her, crossing his arms. “Who are you?”

“I’m Mei,” she said, “and I’m no one special. I started work at the palace yesterday.”

“That’s why I’ve never seen you before,” the black cat observed. He dipped his head in a bow. “I can’t give you my real name, but I go by Black Cat.”

“Black Cat,” Mei tried it out.

“And now, _Gongzhu_ , I must leave, as I can hear the guards coming. I hope we meet again…”

Mei’s rebuke died on her tongue as Black Cat offered her a salute, before bounding into the night. “I’m not a princess!” she had been about to declare. She blushed, looking down at her boring navy robes, and wondered why the cat had called her such a bizarre thing.

 

* * *

 

The kitchen was nosier than usual the next morning, and Mei could feel a headache forming. By the time she had crept back to bed and tried to sleep, it had been very late.

“Sorry for running off,” Mingzhu apologised, clapping her palms together. “I didn't expected to actually see him! Why didn’t you run?”

“I was curious,” Mei smiled. “I talked to him.”

“You talked to the black cat spirit?” Daiyu said. “Cool!”

“Oh, Mei!” Ai clutched her chest. “Weren’t you scared?”

“Not really,” Mei smiled. “Plus, he said he doesn’t eat maidens…” she felt heat creep up her neck, remembering his actual words.

“Wow!” Mingzhu said. “You’re so brave!”

“It’s so noisy here,” Mei complained, rubbing her temples. “Do you think someone else saw him?”

“Oh, that,” Ai said, her face growing dark. “No, it’s because there was a morning announcement. The Emperor is planning to remarry….”

“Already?” Mei gasped, looking around to make sure they weren’t overheard.

“I know,” Mingzhu sighed. “The poor Prince. I can only imagine how horrible he feels.”

 

* * *

 

A few hours later, Mei was elbow-deep in soapy water, her headscarf dipping dangerous low on her forehead.

“Daughter,” Mei was surprised to hear her mother calling her, as she was usually too busy in the main part of the kitchen where the food was prepared.

“Is something wrong?” she asked, and her mother beckoned her outside. There was a ruckus, and a number of servants were clustered at the door, watching the commotion.

“The Crown Prince is throwing a fit…” her mother explained. “Apparently his favourite robe – the one his mother embroidered for him – has been torn.”

“Oh no,” Mei said sympathetically. They watched as the Prince stormed by, his golden robe flapping at the right shoulder, where it had split. “Why can’t they just repair it?”

“Hmm,” Mei's mother hummed. “Something to do with where the damage is. It would mean replicating his mother’s handiwork, and they don’t have the original pattern.”

“But it was the same on both shoulders…” Mei commented, looking after the Prince. “They would just have to copy the design…”

Her mother smiled knowingly at her. “Why don’t you go and tell them that?”

Mei trailed after the crowd, mainly made up of the imperial seamstresses and craftsman. From the discussion, she could tell that the Prince had declared he would wear this robe and no other for the remarriage of his father. However, it had been made several years ago, and he had grown taller and broader since then. As a result, when trying to fit into the robe, it had been torn.

“Excuse me,” Mei piped up, approaching the oldest woman, whose hair was greying at her temples. She could tell from the woman’s clothing and accessories that she was the most senior seamstress. “Couldn’t the design be copied from the other shoulder?”

“Who are you?” the Head Seamstress barked, frowning down at her.

“What nonsense!” exclaimed another woman in the group, who was carrying bolts of fabric. “Who on earth could replicate the Empress’ work?”

“I am not an artist,” Mei admitted, “But I can faithfully copy any design.”

“Oh?” the Head Seamstress said, and Mei could tell from the glint in her eye that she did not believe her. “Let’s see what the Prince thinks, then.”

“What?” Mei gasped, not expecting this turn of events. But the old woman grabbed her by the wrist, and led her off, much to the amusement of the other seamstresses.

“Serves her right for showing off!” they cackled.

 

* * *

 

The Head Seamstress led Mei along several wings of the Palace, until they reached the Crown Prince’s own rooms. She yanked Mei down to her knees, outside a painted paper door. “Excuse me, your Highness. I have found someone who claims she can copy the Empress’ design.”

A guard slid open the door, and Mei cursed herself for being so presumptuous. Clearly, the Head Seamstress was hoping to direct the Prince’s anger onto fresh meat like herself.

“Let them in,” came the cool voice, and Mei was pulled to her feet. She barely had the opportunity to take in the lavish room, decorated entirely in red and gold, before her face was pressing against the ground. Her headscarf slipped forward, and she was too terrified to adjust it.

“Here I thought you were bringing me a skilled craftsman, Hu Wenqian,” the Prince said, his voice low. “But instead, it’s a young girl from the kitchen?”

“She says she can copy any design, your Highness,” the old woman said saucily. “I have yet to see her skill for myself.”

“Bring parchment and ink,” the Prince ordered, and a servant girl immediately rushed to his side with the items.

“Rise,” he said, and Mei sat up, her cheeks pink, her eyes fixed on the ground. There was a low table before him, and the servant had spread out a roll of parchment, ink and a brush.

“Now, copy the design on my left shoulder,” the Prince commanded, and Mei nodded meekly, crawling forward, unable to look him directly in the eye. She reached for the brush, her fingers trembling, and after studying the design once more on his robe, she recreated it on the page. Upon finishing, she tapped off the excess ink and placed the brush gently down on its rest.

“By the heavens,” Hu Wenqian murmured.

“What is your name?” asked the Prince. Mei swallowed, and finally looked up at his face. She had only seen his side profile, and she was floored by how beautiful he was. His eyes were dark, like the ink dying the page, and they caught her completely.

“Chen Mei, your Highness,” she managed to reply.

“Chen Mei,” he repeated, a smile playing around his mouth. He picked up the parchment and examined it. “You shall sew this design onto some silk, and if the Head Seamstress is satisfied, you will help her to repair this gown.”

“Yes, my Prince,” she bowed, her head touching the floor.

 

* * *

 

Mei followed the old woman in a daze, the parchment rolled up and clutched in her hand.

“Well, I wasn’t expecting that,” the Head Seamstress admitted, showing her into the artisan quarter. Rolls and rolls of silk were stacked against the wall, and Mei inhaled at the sheer number of colours. There were shades she had never set eyes on before – colours that commoners would never see.

“Where did a country girl learn to draw like that?”

“I’ve just always been able to do it,” Mei explained, laying her sketch out on the table that took up the centre of the room. “It was a game when I was a child. We only had one bridal gown for our village, and it was fun to alter and adapt it for each wedding.”

“Hmm,” the old woman said, selecting a golden bolt, a similar apricot yellow to the torn robe. “Well, let me see how you get on with imperial silk.”

Mei simply smiled, and took the offered needle. She knew she would have no problem at all, because sewing was just like breathing. She didn’t even have to think about it.

Hu Wenqian inspected the silk an hour later, and cleared her throat. “You no longer work in the kitchens, but under me.”

Mei knew better than to argue with such a woman, and simply bowed her head. Although she would miss her new friends, she wouldn’t miss the work, and to be allowed access to such fine silk was a dream come true. She silently thanked her mother.

“Go and show this to the Prince, and tell him we will begin working on the robe right away.”

 

* * *

 

The guard from before informed her that the Prince had been summoned by the Emperor to the Court Room, so Mei hesitated, not wanting to return empty-handed for her first task.

“Can I just fetch the gown?” she asked, but the guard shook his head.

“Could you give it to me, then?” Mei asked politely, but the guard shook his head once more.

“I cannot move from this post, nor touch the Prince’s things without permission.”

Mei sighed, and decided to wait outside the Court Room. Perhaps she could catch him leaving. She asked the guard for directions, but still managed to get lost several times, and was saved when Ai bumped into her.

“Where have you been?” her friend asked, and Mei quickly filled her in on what had progressed that day.

“How wonderful!” Ai tugged on her sleeve. “Come with me, I’ll show you where it is.”

 

* * *

 

There were several people waiting outside the Court Room, and Mei spotted the servant girl from before. She introduced herself, and learned her name was Ting.

“He’s been in there for an hour now,” she fretted, tugging at a loose thread on her sleeve. “I’m worried something else has happened.”

“Could it be about the remarriage?” Ai asked, when suddenly the large doors were thrown open, and the Prince charged out, his face scarlet.

Mei dropped to her knees with everyone else, but looked up under her lashes. She was sure she spotted a tear fall from the Prince’s eye.

“Ting,” she said, once they were able to rise. “I can’t pester the Prince now. Could you please fetch me the golden gown? Perhaps if I can repair it quickly, his Highness will feel better.”

“I believe that would cheer him up,” Ting agreed, and together they returned to the guard, who allowed Ting to retrieve the gown.

 

* * *

 

“Mei, do not get blood on that,” Hu Wenqian warned. She had been working for five hours now, painstakingly embroidering the pattern onto a new sleeve.

“I won’t,” Mei promised. Her hands had never been soft like the ladies of the court, and no matter how often she stabbed herself, she didn’t often draw blood.

“You should eat,” the Head Seamstress commented.

“I will,” she replied. “I just need to finish this sleeve. I can’t stop now.”

“All right,” Hu Wenqian said. “I will see you in the morning, then.”

“Sleep well,” Mei smiled, bowing to her superior, before taking up the needle again. She had a lot of respect for the Empress: the design was intricate, and must have taken her many weeks to complete. It was a vibrant peacock, in a strong golden colour that still stood out against the apricot silk. Chrysanthemums also bloomed along the sleeve and the shoulder.

“Just a little more,” Mei told herself, even though her arms ached and her eyes were dry. But then she thought of the Prince, and the tear he had shed, she found the energy to continue.

 

* * *

 

Mei sewed for three days and three nights, eating only when her mother forced her to. She slept little, dreaming of the golden robe. She worked from the Prince’s newest measurements that the Imperial robe-makers had recorded recently, and extended both sleeves and the hem. She added a new panel in the back that would allow for the Prince’s broad shoulders. Anywhere the silk had frayed, she mended it with secret golden stitches, so that the gown would last many more years. The Prince was eighteen now, and so she expected he would grow even taller. As she worked, Mei realised that the silk held the Prince's scent, a strong sandalwood from the incense burned in his rooms. She could often smell it on her fingers, even after she had stopped working, and it made her feel connected to him in some way.

“Impressive,” Hu Wenqian said, observing her work. “It would be wise to have the Prince try it on, to ensure your adjustments are correct.”

“Yes, of course,” Mei agreed. “I’m nearly ready to show his Highness. I just need one more day.”

As she drew closer to completion, Mei found herself to be nervous. What if the Prince hated it? What if she had ruined the gown his mother had made especially for him? Despite the reassurances from the other seamstresses (who had a lot more respect for her now) she began to get stomach-aches and feel nauseous. She was unable to eat or sleep. Mei hung up the gown, and found herself retracing the steps herself and Mingzhu had taken before. She stood in front of the Black Cat’s altar, and as she had no offering, she clapped her hands together and prayed.

“Please, please may the Prince be happy with it,” she whispered under her breath.

Mei stayed for a little while, but found herself to suddenly become very tired, and she wished she hadn’t left the artisan quarters. She knelt before the shrine for a while, and was hit with an overwhelming drowsiness. She clutched the wall for support, suddenly weak, her legs almost unable to support her. The lack of sleep and food had finally caught up with her, and she trembled like a new-born calf.

“Good evening, Gongzhu,” there was a soft thump beside her, and suddenly she was being picked up by strong arms. “I don’t believe you should be sleeping in a place such as this…”

“Black Cat,” Mei breathed, struggling to open her eyes. She was light-headed, and her body felt hot. She leaned her cheek against the coolness of his breastplate and sighed.

“What have you done to yourself?” he asked, turning over her palm and touching the pads of her fingers, which were red and scorched with lines.

“The golden robe,” Mei said simply, “it’s nearly finished.”

“Oh?” Black Cat asked, “Who is this robe for, that you have worked yourself to exhaustion?”

Mei laughed, and brought her blistered fingers together. “This is nothing, if it can make the Prince smile again.”

“I see,” the cursed boy said, tucking her closer to his chest. “The Prince is lucky to have such a kind and devoted follower…”

 

* * *

 

Mei awoke, disorientated and confused as the sunlight bathed her face.

Had she dreamed of the Black Cat last night? Or had he carried her back to the artisan quarters? She was lying on the matting, a blanket draped over her.

She panicked, scanning the room, and was relieved to see the golden gown still hung were she had left it. In the morning light, it shone brightly, and she felt the knot in her stomach dissipate. She was ready to show the Prince.

After bathing, Mei dressed in her new clothing that marked her as a seamstress. It consisted of a pale pink robe with long sleeves and a lower neckline (but not as low as the ladies of the court). The skirt was light green and fitted over her bust, secured with a small pink bow. She was now allowed to dress her hair, and Mei found perfect pink ribbon in the storeroom. She considered asking one of the seamstresses if she could borrow blush and powder, but then decided against it. Her skin was much darker than theirs, and she would just look ridiculous.

“It’s ready,” Mei told Hu Wenqian, who nodded and performed the final quality checks. “Very well. Let us go.”

Mei found herself shaking as she was led to the Prince’s rooms once again. The guard nodded them through, and they waited to the side as the servants cleared away the morning meal.

“The golden gown is ready, your Highness,” Hu Wenqian spoke clearly. They were granted permission to enter the room, and the Prince stood. Mei laid the robe on the table, which had now been cleaned, and bowed with the old woman.

“What an excellent piece of craftsmanship…” the Prince murmured, tracing the new sleeve. “I am impressed, Chen Mei.”

“Thank you, your Highness,” Mei spoke, slightly raising her head. She watched eagerly as he examined the rest of the robe, and then suddenly he held out his arms.

“I wish to try it on.”

“Yes, your Majesty,” Ting was suddenly at his side, helping him out of his outer garment, which was white, as usual. Hu Wenqian stood, and Mei followed, helping them to ease the robe over the Prince’s head. Her heart thudded painfully as he slipped his arms through the sleeves, and shook out the silk.

“It’s a wonderful fit,” the Prince smiled, holding her gaze. “Excellent work, Chen Mei.”

“Thank you, your Highness,” Mei exclaimed, touching her head to the ground. “It was my honour.”

“Hu Wenqian, I am promoting Chen Mei to your head assistant. Such talent as this should not be wasted. I am in favour of having a young seamstress creating my future robes. She will be more attuned to my tastes than the older women, if you forgive my rudeness."

“Of course, your Majesty,” Hu Wenqian agreed, without missing a beat. “I will take Mei under my wing.”

“The honour is too great, my Prince,” Mei swallowed, her voice shaking.

“Also, for the act of service in restoring the Empress’ design and respecting her memory, I will gift Chen Mei,” the Prince spoke, opening a wooden jewellery box. Mei could feel tears forming in her eyes, and unable to speak, she touched her head to the ground.

“Hu Wenqian, let it be known that Chen Mei has received these earrings as a mark of her service.”

“Yes, your Highness. It shall so be recorded.”

There was shuffling noise, and then suddenly the strong scent of sandalwood.

“Rise, Chen Mei,” came the soft voice, and Mei managed to raise her face.

“Receive these, with my thanks,” the Prince smiled down at her, and took her hand in his, placing a black, hexagon box on her palm. “I believe they will suit you.”

His touch was soft and warm, and she felt a spark charge between them. The image of him wearing the golden robe was emblazed into her heart.

 

* * *

 

“Daughter,” her father greeted her as she returned to their shared room that night. “We heard the news. Your mother and I are so proud of you.”

“Thank you, father,” Mei bowed her head, and found the tears springing into her eyes once more. Her bracelet brushed her cheek as she wiped her eyes, and she wondered if the good wishes of the girls from her village had provided her with excellent luck.

“What did the Prince give you?” her mother asked, and together they sat down on the floor as Mei opened the black box.

“Oh, my,” she gasped.

“Ladybugs are very lucky,” her father told her, patting her head. “The Gods are smiling on you, my dear red gem.”

Mei nodded, and delicately touched the ruby ladybug earrings. They were too grand for a girl like her to wear, and no doubt the Prince expected her to sell them or trade them. But instead, she would keep them forever. She tucked the box into her pocket, and in the morning, would create a drawstring pouch to wear under her clothes, so she could keep them close to her.

 

* * *

 

“So, now you know how to use your power, what are you planning to do with it?” Plagg asked.

The prince stepped into the shadows, and looked up at the bright moon through the organza drapes.

"Chaos," the cat god reminded him. "That was the price of this freedom."

"I remember," Liang said, touching the ring. "And you shall have it."

 

* * *

 


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, Mei woke with a smile on her face and a song in her heart. She had a quick breakfast with her parents, then headed to the artisan quarters, intent on making a drawstring bag with some of the scraps that she had spotted in the storeroom. Mei had just pinned together her design when Hu Wenqian entered.

“Oh good, you’re already here,” the older woman nodded. “Come. We have been summoned to the Court Room.”

Mei felt her stomach drop. “Are we in trouble?”

“Of course not,” Hu Wenqian sighed. She fixed Mei’s waist tie and tapped the girl lightly on the cheek. “Look lively, child. I have a feeling another storm is coming.”

Mei felt as though marbles were rolling through her blood as she followed the Head Seamstress the Court Room. Last time, she had seen the Crown Prince cry. Could today really be worse?

* * *

Although Mei kept her head low, the overwhelming opulence of the room made her shake. Everything was bright gold, as magnificent as the sun, with four large red columns designating the Emperor’s throne. She had never seen him in the flesh before, and as they bowed low to the ground, Mei heard his voice rumble through the huge hall.

“Having consulted with Lu Cai and the almanac, it has been decided that the most auspicious day for the wedding is the start of the Moon Festival.”

Mei tilted her head. That gave them less than two weeks to prepare. Not very long for an imperial wedding…

“Hu Wenqian, I want you to design a new gown for my bride, inspired by the celestial goddess.”

“Yes, your Majesty,” the Head Seamstress bowed. “It would be my honour. We shall start work on it immediately.”

As matters turned to food, Mei relaxed a little on her heels. Moon designs were already flitting through her mind. Her eyes fell on the young woman sitting next the Emperor, and she guessed this must be the future Empress. She seemed to be much younger than him.

“Prince Liang,” the Court Room Master suddenly announced, and Mei touched her face to the floor again, her heart beating erratically. She had not expected the Prince to arrive mid-way through the proceedings, and the Emperor’s displeasure was clear.

“You shall not wear that gown of mourning at the wedding,” he told his son.

“Yes, Father,” the Prince replied. “I have robes ready. Good morning, aunt. Or, should I address you as mother now?”

The court room went silent; tension fizzing in the air, like soy in a scalding pan.

“Aunt is fine for now, Liang,” the woman spoke softly. “I know I can never replace my dear sister, but I hope to mother you in her absence.”

“Then, mother-aunt, and father-uncle, I wish you an auspicious wedding. It will be a beautiful Moon Festival that I’m sure we will never forget.”

Mei felt her heart clench, and there was something in his words that chilled her. Although the Crown Prince was smiling, it didn’t meet his eyes.

* * *

As she sketched designs, Mei reflected on the Prince’s tears from before. It seemed they had not been shed from sadness, but rather anger. She could understand his feelings: there were plenty of women that the Emperor could wed. Why did it have to be the late Empress’ sister? Indeed, it seemed unusual to not promote a favourite concubine.

“Good,” Hu Wenqian said, looking over her shoulder. “The skies should be clear tonight. You should walk the grounds, let it inspire your thinking.”

“I will,” Mei nodded. During her lunch break, she finished the drawstring pouch, and took comfort in the weight against her hip, under her clothing. She could relax, knowing the earrings were safe and close to her.

“Mei!” Ai greeted her as she joined her friends in the kitchen. “Did you hear the news?”

“Yes,” she sighed, helping herself to a dumpling. “I’m working on the bridal gown as we speak.”

“It explains the Prince’s mood,” said Ting, who sat next to Mei. “He has been so angry of late.”

“Speaking of angry…” Mingzhu grinned. “It seems the Black Cat struck again last night!”

“Oh, no!” Ai gasped, covering her ears. “It’s becoming more frequent…”

Mei carefully swallowed her food. “What did he do?”

“The Emperor’s favourite cherry tree has been destroyed,” Mingzhu informed her enraptured audience. “There are claw marks all over the trunk, and the branches have been snapped and burnt. Also, the gardens around the Imperial Palace have withered. It is like a plague!”

Mei sipped her tea, remembering Black Cat’s claws. But why would he do such a thing?

On her way back to the artisan quarters, she saw the priests lashing the gardens with holy water. The cherry tree, sad and withered, clearly wouldn’t blossom again. Mei worried her lip, and decided to visit the altar that night.

* * *

Her inspiration having dried up, Mei mindlessly embroidered designs onto a scrap of grey silk. She was glad when the day gave way to night, and hoped studying the moon would help refresh her ideas. The wedding garment did not give her pleasure the way the golden robe had: in fact, she knew it would harm the Prince rather than please him.

At the evening meal, she pocketed a steamed bun (since Black Cat seemed to like them last time) and two fish cakes. With her leather-bound sketchbook as an excuse, Mei escaped into the gardens, going first to the altar so the food would not stain her clothing. Black Cat was nowhere to be seen, but she was happy to wait, absorbing what power she could from the bright white disk in the sky. Four pieces of parchment were covered before she realised a few hours had past, and it had grown rather cold.

“He must not be coming tonight…” Mei sighed, and said a quick prayer at the altar anyway. Her drawstring bag bounced against her leg, and she sat down on a bench near a lily pond, taking the black box out. Mei looked at the ruby earrings in the moonlight, wondering over their beauty. Her heart filled with warmth and she traced the jewels, content just to look.

“Rather late to be out alone,” a sudden voice made her start, and she snapped the box closed. It wasn’t the velvet tone of Black Cat, but the steely voice of a palace guard. There were two of them, heavily armoured, with swords at their sides.

“I was sketching the moon,” Mei explained, getting to her feet and dipping her head. “I lost track of the time.”

She slipped the box in her pocket, unable to access her drawstring bag in front of the men, but they exchanged a look and moved forward.

“What is that you have there?” The guard with a clipped moustache and beard caught her wrist. “That wouldn’t be imperial jewellery now, would it?”

“I…” Mei started, shocked by the accusation. She tried to move back, but the other guard was behind her, grabbing her arms and pinning them. “Wait! It was a gift from the Prince! It’s not stolen, I swear…”

“A gift from the Prince!” the bearded guard barked. “To a seamstress? A likely tale.”

Mei squeaked as the guard pulled her arms taunt, while the other searched her pockets. But he took his time, pressing deliberately against her, and her cheeks flamed as his hand wandered where it should not go.

“Scoundrel…” she gasped, pulling against her constraints, kicking out. “How dare you! Unhand me at once!”

The guard grabbed the box from her pocket, and slapped her soundly across the face. The crack echoed in the night, and the force knocked her over to the ground.

“Dirty thief,” one of the men muttered, before kicking her in the back, winding her further.

Tears streamed from Mei’s eyes and she found it hard to breathe. Her face swelled immediately from the blow, obscuring her vision.

“We’re confiscating these, seamstress. I shall personally see that you are whipped for this crime.”

There was a clean chime in the wind, and Mei’s heart stuttered, half-hoping, half-fearing it was Black Cat. She tried to speak, but was silenced by the guards falling to their knees.

“Whipped on whose authority?” a new voice demanded.  

“My Prince,” the bearded guard choked. “We caught this seamstress with imperial jewels. Not only did she deny her crime, but she tried to resist her punishment.”

Mei could hear footsteps drawing close to her, and she blinked, desperately trying to see.

“What is her crime?” The Prince asked, his voice thundering.

“Theft, your Highness. She claims the earrings were a gift from yourself.”

Mei could hear the box being opened, and there was an almighty silence.

“Your swords.”

It was a simple, blunt request, and armour rattled as the guards crawled forward, offering their weapons.

“You should have listened to her,” the Prince said, the swish of a sword making her hair stand on end. “She spoke the truth. The only lies here are from yourself. Now, bow your heads…”

“Wait!” Mei cried out, managing to pull herself to her knees. She saw the look of shock on the Prince’s face, and wasn’t sure if it was because of her rudeness, or due to the mess of her face. “Your Highness, please do not shed blood for my sake! It was a misunderstanding.”

“Chen Mei…” The Prince regarded her, before lowering the swords. “It is as you wish. I hope you men remember this kindness. Now, return to your posts and hand in your colours. You no longer work in my name.”

The guards bowed, and quickly made themselves scarce.

“Can you stand?” The Prince was beside her instantly, having stowed the swords in his belt. His strong arm wrapped around her waist and she trembled at his closeness. He led Mei over to the bench and once she was seated, he dipped a handkerchief in the lily pond. The prince pressed it to her right cheek, which was most inflamed.

“Thank you, your Highness,” Mei tried to bow her head. “Please, you have done enough.”

“You are fascinating, Chen Mei,” the Prince chuckled. “Why is it I was ready to kill those men, when you – who were harmed – can forgive them so?”

“It is too easy to hold grudges,” Mei reflected soberly, “and that is the fastest way to a corrupted spirit.”

“Wise words,” the Prince sighed. “How I wish I could be as pure of heart. How does your face feel now?”

“Much better, thank you,” Mei said softly. “I am sorry you have to look on me in this state, your Highness…”

The Prince cleared his throat in annoyance. “It is my gift that put you in this situation, is it not? Therefore, the balance must be restored. You are to rest tomorrow: I will instruct Hu Wenqian.”

Mei felt as though she was dreaming. Although she was in severe pain, to be alone with the Prince in such a way was unmeasurable good fortune. His fingers brushed her cheek as he soaked the handkerchief again, and his familiar sandalwood scent washed over her.

“These belong to you,” The Prince said, setting the box gently in her lap. “You do not wear them?”

“They are not fitting for someone of my status, my Prince,” Mei confessed. “But I promise to treasure them for the rest of my life.”

The royal regarded her, his eyes dark, before getting to his feet. “I must take my leave now, before my disappearance is noted.”

“Thank you…” Mei replied, holding out his handkerchief.

“Keep it,” he said, waving his hand.

“With all due respect, my Prince, I do not want to be caught with such a precious cloth after what transpired here tonight…” Mei ducked her head, holding out the silk with both hands.

“Very well,” the Prince sighed, accepting it. “Then I will ask my herbalist to deliver a cooling balm to you. Will that do?”

“You are too kind …”

There was a sudden noise in the distance, and the Prince stalled, before getting to his feet. “Go directly to your room, Chen Mei, and rest. I must take my leave.”

He hesitated, then walked away from her, his white robes glowing in the moonlight like a ghostly apparition.

* * *

Ting brought the cooling agent an hour later, and helped Mei to apply it.

“You look awful,” the servant told her honestly. “Prince Liang has ordered that you must rest. This balm will help with the swelling…”

“Thank you,” Mei smiled, wincing when her cheek hurt with the action.

“He also asked me to pass you this…” Ting said, her voice slightly questioning. It was a handkerchief, similar to the one he had used before, but fresh. There was gold brocade trimming the edges and his seal in the corner.

“Oh?” Mei took it gently, touched. After Ting had departed, Mei held the silk over her face, just able to catch the scent of sandalwood.

* * *

Her parents were stunned the next morning when they woke. They had slept through the events of the night, and her mother cried, touching Mei’s cheeks gently with her cool fingertips.

“It’s all right,” Mei reassured them, explaining what had happened.

“You should rest then, daughter,” her father said, touching her head. “We’ll bring you breakfast here. You don’t have to go outside like that.”

So Mei passed a very restless time on her pallet. She was sore from where she had been kicked, but it was just bruising. She longed to go to the bathhouse, but knew she would have to wait until it was dark. Even then, Mei was wary of running into guards again.

Hu Wenqian visited her after the lunch time meal, and tutted, turning her face this way and that.

“You should not walk the grounds without protection…” she said, placing a small, sharp dagger into her assistant’s hand. “Wear this under your robes. You never know when you will need to defend yourself.”

“Thank you,” Mei smiled, examining the blade.

“And I brought you some scraps. I know Prince Liang has ordered rest, but I thought you might be bored…”

Mei grinned, accepting the grey silk. Her teacher knew her well.

* * *

Night had finally fallen, and Mei decided to visit the bathhouse during the evening meal, as she was less likely to run into anyone outside. She was not vain, but embarrassed about what the reactions to her injury would be. As she hadn’t yet seen it for herself, she wasn’t sure how bruises it would look. 

Carrying clean cotton robes that she wore for sleeping, Mei took her bucket and homemade soap and made her way to the washhouse, which was just around the corner from their room. She was glad that the place was deserted, and the noise and clatter of the meal time drifted from the kitchen, reassuring her. As much as her friends would be concerned about her, Mei didn’t want to have to explain what had happened: especially about who had come to her aid. She was still unsure why the Crown Prince had been walking out so late, unaccompanied, and she mused on this in the hot water. It eased her muscles wonderfully, and although her face was tight and tingly, she knew the sulfur from the hot spring, which fed into the bathhouse, could only help the healing process.

When she was pink and lightheaded, Mei dried off and dressed in her clean robes. Her unbound hair only grazed her shoulders, but it was light and dried quickly in the heat. She peeked out of the wooden window, and seeing the coast was clear, scuttled into the night, keeping close to the shadows.

“Good evening, _Gongzhu_ …”

Mei squeaked in fright at the sudden voice above her. Her hand fisted around the dagger in her pocket, and she looked up to see the glowing green eyes of Black Cat. He was lying lazily on the roof of the bathhouse, like a real feline.

“You scared me!” Mei laughed, holding a hand to her chest. Black Cat nimbly leapt from the roof and landed in front of her, sweeping into a bow.

“Did I make your heart race?” he inquired with a wink, bell tinkling from the ribbon in his hair. His face dropped as he looked up at her. Mei flushed, and touched her cheek gingerly.

“Is it that bad?” she winced.

“What happened?” Black Cat asked gently, covering her hand with his. Claws tickled against her skin and she remembered the scarred cherry blossom bark.

“Oh you know, just being clumsy,” Mei giggled nervously. “My mother always said if there was an uneven floorboard I would always manage to fall over it…”

Black Cat tilted his head, his green eyes bright in the dark.

“I need to go before they finish the evening meal,” Mei explained, holding her bucket close to her chest. She was suddenly aware of how thin her sleeping robes were.

“Then, good night,” Black Cat smiled. “I hope you recover quickly.”

“Thank you,” Mei felt flush creep up her neck. She escaped quickly into the servant quarters, heart thumping, the feeling of Black Cat’s claws still clinging to her cheek.

* * *

Weeks passed quickly as the palace prepared for the wedding. Mei had explained her injury to her friends as clumsiness with an iron basin, and they seemed to believe her. She hadn’t seen any more of the Prince since that night, and kept his handkerchief tucked into her bedding, so his scent was close to her while she slept. Mei and Hu Wenqian worked tirelessly on the moon embroidered gown, and on the morning of the wedding, the seamstress finished the last stitch and handed it over to her teacher.

“Well done, Mei,” Hu Wenqian praised her. “This is a masterpiece. I’m sure the Emperor will be impressed.”

“I couldn’t have completed it without your guidance,” Mei dipped her head. Her teacher left for the new Empress’ quarters to help her dress, and the young seamstress sighed, kneeling with exhaustion against her worktable.

“Mei!” Ting rushed into the room, her cheeks pink. “Please, come quickly!”

She rose to her feet as fast as her stiff legs would allow her. “What has happened?”

“It’s the Prince,” Ting explained, grabbing her arm. “The golden gown won’t sit properly, and he’s having a fit. He’s requested you to come immediately.”

“Ahh,” Mei blushed, and nodded. She quickly packed her tools into a leather pouch, and fastened it to her waist. “Let’s go quickly!”

* * *

There were raised voices and sounds of things crashing in the Prince’s chambers when they arrived. The guard nodded them in, and Mei’s heart was palpating painfully.

“Chen Mei!” the Prince spotted her, and waved her over impatiently. “Everyone else, leave! I won’t allow this gown to be torn again.”

The other dressers exchanged frazzled glances before bowing and leaving the room. Ting patted Mei on the back and left them alone, drawing the curtains so they were left in privacy.

“You asked for me, your Highness?” Mei asked bravely. Her eyes were fixed to the ground, as the Prince had clearly just finished bathing. His hair was still damp and undressed, a black curtain over his bare shoulders. It stood out against his pale throat.

“This robe no longer fits,” the Prince explained, gesturing to the golden gown that was hanging before them. “They tried every way, but it will not sit right.”

“Please, let me,” Mei bowed, carefully taking the gown from its stand. The Prince huffed, but held out his arms.

“Excuse me,” the seamstress said gently, easing his arms into the silk under-robe, which had clearly been thrown off in a rage. Mei pressed her lip together as she untucked the Prince’s long hair from the neck of the gown, her fingertips feeling as though they were fizzing.

He was silent as she helped him into the golden gown, and she saw the silk was tight against his back.

“You see?” the Prince exclaimed. “What is the meaning of this, Chen Mei?”

“Please do not worry, your Highness,” Mei smiled, unclipping her pouch and removing her needle and golden thread. “You have grown since the last time you wore this robe. But I can fix this in a moment.”

“You can?” the royal raised his eyebrows.

Mei nodded, and slipped the dagger from her pocket, covering its naked blade with her palm.

 “I know it is treason to unsheathe a weapon in your chambers. Please be assured, I am just going to undo some stitches.”

“Go ahead,” the Prince’s lip quirked. “I dare say you would be an excellent assassin, Chen Mei…”

“Indeed not, my Prince,” the seamstress disagreed politely, undoing the secret stitches below the shoulder panels, allowing the silk to smooth out. “Does that feel better?”

The Prince stretched his arms out, and clenched his shoulders. “Yes, it does.”

Mei exhaled. “Please allow me to tidy these stitches, and I will be finished.”

“Take all the time you need,” the Prince retorted. “I am in no rush to attend this wedding.”

Mei swallowed, unsure how to answer without causing offense. She worked quickly and deftly, her heart finally calming.

“Your face recovered well, I see,” the Prince noted, as she returned to his front to smooth the wrinkles from his shoulders and fasten the robe.

“Yes, the balm worked wonders,” Mei lowered her head. “Thank you once again.”

He said nothing in reply, but she could feel his gaze on her, and Mei struggled to keep her cheeks from flushing. Her usually steady hands faltered, and she dropped the dagger as she tried to put it back in her pocket.

“Careful,” the Prince said cheerfully, scooping it up and handing it to her, handle first. “It’s rather sharp. Don’t want any accidental assassinations now, do we?”

He held the tip of the blade easily between his fingers, and Mei nodded nervously, taking the dagger back.

“Was that all, my Prince?” she asked.

“Let me see. Bring the mirror,” he said, checking the fastenings at his collar.

Mei nodded, and located the hand-held bronze oval on the table. She held it up and the Prince looked straight at her.

“What do you think?” he asked her, smiling, though it did not reach her eyes. “Do I look like a happy son about to celebrate my father’s wedding?”

Mei hesitated on her answer, and the Prince chuckled.

“You are honest,” he grinned, and this time his eyes lit up. “That’s what I like about you, Chen Mei.”

The seamstress blinked and tried to form an answer, but the curtains were pulled back and the Prince’s guard glanced between them.

“It is time, Prince Liang.”

“Very well,” he sighed, and the dressers returned, swarming around him in order to fix his hair and accessories.

Mei bowed and left the room, the Prince’s grin safe in her mind.

* * *

Since people travelled from all across the land to attend the wedding, the kitchen was busier than usual. Mei changed into her old navy work robes and tied a scarf around her hair so she could help out in the boiling kitchen. It was better to keep busy, rather than think about the Prince having to sit through the wedding ceremony. She hoped the golden robe would bring him some comfort at least.

The evening meal was served to the guests without a hitch, and Mei helped clean the numerous dishes. The only perk of such a celebration was that the servants’ meal that night would be the leftovers of the wedding feast, therefore a much more luxurious spread than usual.

Mei enjoyed the food with her friends, and was even allowed to try some lychee liqueur that had been allocated to the servants to celebrate the Moon Festival.

“Let’s all go and view it together,” Mingzhu giggled, slightly tipsy from the alcohol. “I hear there will be fireworks, too!”

So they trooped outside, arm in arm. The atmosphere in the grounds was merry, with many people - servants and courtesans - milling around freely. There was soft lute music in the air, and Ai tugged on Mingzhu’s sleeve.

“There he is!” she giggled. “The one with the glasses. That’s who Mingzhu likes. Qing, I think?”

“Shh, Ai!” Mingzhu gasped, exasperated. “Do you want everyone to hear?”

“He’s cute,” Mei teased. “His music is lovely, too.”

They watched the musicians until they finished the song, and then the boy in the glasses came over and asked them what they thought.

“It was beautiful,” Ai told him. “Mingzhu thought so, too.”

“I’ve been practising all day,” Qing laughed, showing them his blistered fingers. “I’m glad it was worth it.”

“How did the wedding ceremony go?” Mingzhu smiled. “You played in the palace, right?”

“It was okay…” the musician said, rubbing the back of his neck. “But man, I felt sorry for the Prince…”

“Did something happen?” asked Mei, barely able to hold herself back.

“Well…” Qing looked around warily. “The Prince was very quiet during the proceedings. He wasn’t drinking much, either, and the Emperor constantly belittled him. But the worse part came when he offered him a virgin concubine to go and ‘have fun with’…”

“What?” Mingzhu gasped. “That’s awful! And so insulting!”

“I know,” Qing sighed. “If it had been anyone else…anyway, the Prince got up and left without saying a word. I can’t say I blame him…”

“How embarrassing,” Ai covered her mouth.

“The poor Prince…” Mei clenched her fists under her sleeves. “He must be so hurt…”

“He hasn’t been seen since…” Qing shrugged. “I imagine he’ll be drowning his sorrows somewhere…”

The discussion continued, and Mei fidgeted, wondering if she could sneak away. A massive explosion interrupted her thoughts, and people nearby cheered.

“The fireworks are starting…” Daiyu noted, watching the sky with glee.

“So loud!” Ai cried, clamping her hands around her ears.

“They are pretty, though…” Mei commented, distracted for a moment by the pretty pinks and yellow lights illuminating the sky. Each firework was like a whip cracking, and the sound seemed to reverberate right through her heart.

“Look out!” Qing suddenly grabbed Mingzhu, and the rest of the girls ducked to the ground. It seemed as if a rocket had gone astray, and it struck the roof of a nearby wooden beam with a bang.

“Help!” Ai called out, as the wood immediately burst into flames. Mei squinted her eyes at the mysterious green fire. It didn’t seem natural, and above all the noise of the fireworks, she could just make out the familiar tinkle of a bell.

 _Black Cat_ , she realised, his stomach flipping. She caught his dark form scaling the nearby roof of a temple, and he raised his hand, which was pulsing with toxic green light.

“No!” she called out in warning, but her voice was drowned by the screams of the rockets in the sky. The fire was spreading now, eating through any architecture in its way.

Most people were still unaware of the fire, so Mei rushed to the gong outside the now burning temple and hit it as hard as she could. The shock shuddered through her arm but she gritted her teeth and tried again.

“What is the meaning of this?” a priest was immediately by her side, his face furious. Mei motioned to the roof and his expression changed upon seeing the flames.

Patting her on the shoulder, he rushed in to evacuate the other priests.

“Mei, look out!” called Mingzhu, and a burning slate smashed at her feet. Mei instinctively braced her arms over her head, and a spark seared her exposed skin.

“Let’s get out of here,” Qing roared over the commotion, ushering the girls to the north side of the gardens, where people were fleeing to.

“Black Cat…” Mei whispered, watching as the fire merrily engulfed the castle. “What made you do such a thing?”

* * *

He watched, as always, from the shadows, and Plagg praised his handiwork.

“So much screaming,” the cat god preened. “It’s been too long.”

“That will teach the priests a lesson about my power,” the Prince said softly, the flames reflected in his eyes.

“Your father’s wedding night will have been thoroughly ruined, too,” Plagg smirked, admiring the charred palace, which had been especially remodeled for the Empress.

“Yes,” Prince Liang nodded. “This land has become rotten. It was time to burn it all and let new life spring from the ashes.”

Plagg rolled his eyes. “Oh great, a poet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently, glass mirrors were invented only 200 years ago! But in China and India, they used bronze mirrors from about 2000 BC.


	3. Chapter 3

The fire took several hours to put out, even with every servant and guard on hand. Mei’s arm was throbbing, but she wanted to help, as buckets and buckets of water were passed down a line.

The air was acrid and many held their sleeves to their mouths. Mei’s heart was heavy as she pressed a damp cloth to the raised red welt on her skin. The fire had caused much destruction: the priest’s temple was completely ruined.

Many people claimed to have seen the Black Cat and his green fire, and the seamstress was unable to protest his crime. She knew he was cursed, but Mei had thought he was able to control it. What in the heavens had caused him to go so wild this time?

Mei found no answers in the few hours of sleep she was able to manage. At the morning meal, everyone was subdued. A few servants had sustained burns, but luckily no one was too badly hurt.

“They’re saying it’s another bad omen about the marriage,” Mingzhu whispered to Mei, as she filled her cup with fresh tea.

“Perhaps it’s the ghost of the old Empress, in a jealous rage?” Daiyu wondered out loud.

“No way,” Ai shook her head sadly. “Prince Liang’s mother was sweet and kind. She would never be a vengeful spirit…”

“Plus, Mei said the Black Cat is male,” Mingzhu mused.

“Yeah,” Mei sipped her tea, trying not to choke. “Definitely male.”

 

* * *

 

She deliberately sought him out that night, her hand clutching the dagger in her pocket as she walked the palace grounds. There were more guards than usual patrolling, but Mei knew the palace well enough now. She was aware of the secret spots, where someone slight like herself could easily be concealed.

Mei found herself at the ruins of the temple. The gong alone remained standing: charred chaos fanned around the proud, golden disk.

“You should stay away from here, child,” the priest from before was burning incense nearby. “He may strike again.”

Mei bowed in greeting. “Is there nothing that works against him?”

The priest regarded her, coiling the grey wisp of beard around his fingers. “We are not strong enough. But the Emperor has summoned holy monks from the Violet Mountain. They should arrive in a few days, and they will have the ability to capture the spirit, and cleanse him from this world.”

The priest patted her shoulder again, as if these words would reassure her. Mei bowed and walked away, feeling ill. She knew it had to be done, but why did it fill her with such despair?

“Gongzhu…”

The seamstress was so deep in thought, she almost walked right into the Black Cat. He smiled down at her, eyes glowing, as if nothing had changed. She clenched her teeth, and raised her hand to him, which he easily dodged, jumping back, his bell tinkling in warning.

“Have you turned against me, too?” Black Cat asked, his voice bitter. “Did you feel pity for the priest? Thanks to him, I cannot rest. I just want them to leave me be.”

“Why?” Mei asked, feel her chest tighten. “Why did you do that? There’s a difference between some petty pranks and what happened last night. You could have killed people!”

“Nonsense!” Black Cat shook his head, and flexed his claws. “That’s not what my power does. It only eats away at what I touch. It can’t hurt people. I wanted to frighten them, and that’s what I did.”

“Can’t hurt people?” Mei blinked at him. “Did the Cat God tell you that? Because he’s lying, you know. People were injured. It wasn’t just buildings that burned.”

Black Cat threw back his head and laughed, before baring his fangs at her. “I never pretended to be the good guy, Gongzhu.”

Mei felt her eyes fill with tears. “What made you like this? Are you a servant? A guard? You must have been badly treated to lash out like this…”

He stalked up to her, and grasped her cheek in his clawed hand. “You’ll never know who I really am. No one will. That’s the price of my freedom. And I’ll never give it up.”

“Do you want to hurt me, too?” Mei asked, her voice shaking.

“No,” Black Cat released her, and stepped back. His face was unreadable. “I’ll never hurt you.”

“But you already did…” Mei said sadly, shaking back her sleeve. The burn was an angry scorch, raised against her golden skin. “I’ll carry this scar forever, you know.”

“Mei…” he froze, staring at her injury, as if unable to believe what he was seeing. Then, he tilted the cat mask from his face with his thumb, so it rested on the side of his head. Black Cat was young, as Mei had expected, and beautiful. Without the mask to cover them, his eyes glowed even more green in the night. She could see the narrow strip of his feline pupils, and he drew closer to her, making her gasp in fright and turn her face.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice breaking as he cradled her arm. “I didn’t realise…I didn’t know. I would never want to hurt you, Mei.”

She closed her eyes, and felt the tears trickle down her warm cheeks. Mei blushed further as Black Cat raised her arm to his lips, and kissed the welt.

“I’m so sorry…” he repeated against her skin. “I was ignorant… I truly didn’t wish to hurt anyone, only frighten them.”

“I believe you,” Mei said, opening her lids slowly. Black Cat’s eyes were blinding, but she did her best to focus on them. “It’s not easy, being cursed, and yours seems to be more complicated than I first thought.”

“Will you forgive me?” he asked carefully, holding her hand in his.

“Yes,” she nodded. “I don’t like to hold grudges. But you have to promise me, not to do anything like that ever again. And you must make it up to the others you harmed.”

“I promise,” Black Cat agreed.

“You are in great danger now,” Mei warned him. “The Emperor has summoned monks from the Violet Mountain.”

“Has he now?” Black Cat said, showing his fangs again. “I am a pest, to be destroyed?”

“You should stay away from the Palace,” Mei told him, reaching out slowly and touching his bare face. He leaned against her palm, closing his eyes.

“Do you care for me, Mei?” he asked, and the honesty of his question stopped her tears.

“Yes, I do,” she replied, her eyes serious. “So please, stay out of sight.”

 

* * *

 

The Black Cat kept to his word. Servants discussed in hushed tones how they had found medicines and money in golden envelopes tucked into their pallets. Mei herself found a pretty pearl-like shell with a healing balm for her burn tucked into her pallet. She breathed a sigh of relief as she headed to the artisan quarters. Perhaps the trouble would be over now.

“Good, you’re here,” Hu Wenqian nodded at her assistant. “The Empress would like to see you. She wants some new gowns made for the autumn months.”

“Oh…” Mei felt herself fixed to the floor. “Isn’t that task above me, teacher?”

“Not at all,” the Head Seamstress said dismissively. “She liked your work on her moon robe. Furthermore, I am busy today with this month’s fabric for the accounts. Go now.”

Mei nodded and bowed, but felt her heart sink. The last thing she wanted to do was design more gowns for the Emperor’s new wife, but it was her duty to do so.

 

* * *

 

The Empress had her own chambers in The Peony Palace. Mei meekly kneeled outside while the guards on duty reported her presence.

She was permitted to enter after a few moments, and pressed her face into the matting immediately. The Empress was surrounded by her ladies-in-waiting, and they ignored her for over an hour, chatting idly about the wedding and praising the bride’s beauty. Mei could feel her neck begin to hurt and she wondered if she would have to kneel until night-time.

“Try this jasmine scent, Empress,” one woman preened. “It is said to raise the libido of any man. The Emperor will not be able to keep his hands from you tonight.”

“Oh?” The Empress giggled, and allowed the scent to be rubbed onto her wrists. “It is rather enchanting.”

Mei blinked, the oil so strong that her eyes were starting to water.

“Rise, seamstress,” the Empress finally said, acknowledging her.

“Thank you, Empress,” Mei said demurely, keeping her eyes down. “How can I assist you?”

“My robes for the new season are too dull,” the royal remarked, flicking her wrist at the clothing draped over her bed. “I require something more beautiful, like the wedding gown you made for me.”

Mei bowed. “Does your Empress have any particular colours in mind?”

She looked up under her lashes. The woman was pretty, and her hair was coiled magnificently around her head, adorned with more golden pins and jewels than Mei could count. She wore a rose-coloured robe, that teased most of her pale skin and cleavage. Her ladies-in-waiting were also flawlessly attired, and Mei could feel her face burning as they scrutinized her.

“Jewel tones: amethysts and rubies. More gold, of course.”

“I understand,” Mei nodded. “I will get to work at once.”

 

* * *

 

Mei returned to the artisan quarters, and began to sift through the silks. Hu Wenqian was still accounting, and wished not to be disturbed, so Mei decided to wait to consult her for the final colours. She attached swatches to a piece of parchment with her suggestions.

Mei felt deflated as she attended the evening meal, and even the chatter with her friends was unable to lift her spirits. Why had the Empress and the ladies-in-waiting upset her so? It wasn’t until she was bathing that night, and caught her reflection in the water, that she realised. These were the beautiful women that the Prince was surrounded by, day and night. In comparison, with her plain looks, flat chest and dark skin, Mei was nobody all at.

The seamstress slapped her cheeks angrily. “Chen Mei!” she scolded herself. “It is an honour to serve the Prince. Most girls in China will never even lay eyes on him, yet he knows your name! You should be happy with this.”

Nodding, Mei dried herself and dressed. She opened the black box, and put the earrings in, allowing herself this small pleasure. She was aware of their weight, and their wealth. Feeling silly, she took the jewellery out and returned it to the box. They did not suit a girl like her.

 

* * *

 

“Daughter,” her father was waiting for her as she entered their room. “A guard came looking for you. He’s outside.”

Mei blinked and felt her heart stutter. Had she been seen, with Black Cat?

She felt vulnerable in her sleeping robes, and wrapped herself in a pink shawl. He was waiting in the kitchen, and she recognised him as the Prince’s guard.

“Can I help you?” Mei asked politely.

“Ting has fallen ill.”

“Oh no,” Mei swallowed. “How can I assist?”

“She is being cared for by the Prince’s doctor, but there is no one to attend to his Highness tonight. Hu Wenqian asked me to fetch you.”

“Me?” Mei blushed.

“Get dressed. Hu Wenqian is waiting for you.”

 

* * *

 

Mei’s hands shook as she dressed in a clean pink robe and green skirt. She was unable to fix her hair, so she begged her mother to twist it in her place, using pink ribbon.

“You look presentable,” her father teased, tapping her nose. “Now go, and do our ancestors proud.”

Mei bowed to her parents, and went to the artisan quarters, where she found Hu Wenqian surrounded by rolls of parchment. She was smoking a thin pipe, and tapped off the ash when Mei entered.

“Good,” the Head Seamstress nodded, appraising her. “It seems Ting will have to rest for a few days, and the Prince’s other servant is visiting home at the moment, so I need you to fill in.”

“What do I need to do?” Mei asked nervously.

Hu Wenqian drew on the pipe. “Serve his meals, help him dress, that sort of thing. Wash his hair.”

“W-wash…!” Mei stammered.

“Of course, you don’t expect him to do it himself, do you?” the Head Seamstress retorted.

“I…I’m not sure I’m right for this…” Mei admitted, looking at her socked feet.

“Who else is going to do it? Me?” Hu Wenqian barked, slapping her hand on the table. “I doubt he wants an old toad helping him. The Prince should be surrounded by pretty, young things like yourself.”

Mei blushed and fiddled with her sleeve. She didn’t dare voice her disagreement.

“Don’t worry, Prince Liang is a gentle boy,” Hu Wenqian said, rising and standing in front of the seamstress. “He’s not like those other royals that abuse their power. You will be quite safe with him.”

“That’s not…!” Mei squeaked, unable to even imagine what her teacher was implying.

“But still, we can improve on this…” Hu Wenqian smirked, and pulled a coral shell from a drawer. “Blush your lips and pinch your cheeks, Mei.”

 

* * *

 

 

The Prince’s guard introduced himself as Peng, and explained the general rules of the chamber. No one was allowed to enter without permission, apart from the Emperor and the Empress (Mei felt her stomach dip at the latter). Women were not allowed, unless a servant like herself.

“The Prince has already had his evening meal,” Peng explained. “He usually has tea before he retires for the night.”

“When does he rise?” Mei asked, thinking ahead.

“He usually sleeps late, unless he has business with the court, or training with the army. But there is nothing scheduled for tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” Mei nodded.

Peng ushered her into the Prince’s bed chambers. The seamstress followed slowly behind the guard, as if she could somehow hide behind his bulk.

“Ting has been instructed to rest for a few days, your Highness,” the guard explained. The Prince was kneeling at his desk with parchment and ink.

“I hope she recovers soon,” the Prince said softly.

“Mei will tend to you in her absence…” Peng said, and looked around at the girl hiding behind him.

She swallowed and shuffled forward, before kneeling down and touching her head to the ground. “I hope to be useful to you, my Prince.”

“Chen Mei,” the Prince acknowledged her, laying down his brush. “Thank you, Peng.”

The guard left them, and Mei felt the hairs rise on the back of her neck. She had been alone once before with the Prince, but that was during the day, and the chambers had been abuzz with comings and goings. Now, it was night and quiet, and all she could hear was the rustle of the Prince’s silk sleeping garment as he moved. She breathed in the familiar sandalwood scent and it helped calm her.

“I hear you have been busy making robes for the Empress,” Prince Liang observed, as he closed the wooden blocks her had been reading.

“Yes, your Highness.”

“You can rise,” the royal said as an afterthought, and Mei lifted her head, and relaxed onto her heels.

“Thank you, my Prince. Would you liked me to fetch you some tea?”

“Not tonight,” he smiled. His lacquer hair was loose down his back, and it rippled when he moved.

Mei diverted her gaze back to the ground, realising she had been staring. “Can I do anything else, your Highness?”

“I am restless, Chen Mei. Do you know the cure for such things?”

The seamstress pressed her lips together and thought hard. “Usually walking and fresh air is recommended.”

“Alas, I am not permitted to walk the grounds alone at this time.”

“That is a shame, my Prince. The grounds are most beautiful and tranquil now.”

“You often walk at night, Chen Mei?” the Prince asked, resting his chin on his hand. “You are not scared?”

“I have my dagger, your Highness,” Mei smiled.

“Ah, but a dagger cannot protect you from evil spirits.”

The seamstress blushed. She had not expected the Prince to raise such a topic with her.

“Indeed, your Highness,” she agreed.

“But you still walk at night, despite these dangers?”

“Not often, my Prince,” Mei explained, pressing her hands together in her lap. “But sometimes I will go and pray at the altar, in the hope of placating the spirit.”

“How good of you,” the royal grinned. “Have your prayers been answered yet?”

“I don’t wise to tempt fate, your Highness,” Mei bowed.

“You are wise, Chen Mei,” he chuckled. “It seems all I can do tonight is study. Can you write?”

“A little,” Mei coloured. It was not something she usually shared, but she had learned a little in her village, along with her spirituality training. One could not write wards without characters, after all.

“My teacher often scolds me for my calligraphy. It is too wild, apparently. What do think, Chen Mei?”

She rose, and stood in front of his desk, where there were several scripts. The Prince had been copying them, and unlike the originals, his brushwork was free and careless.

“I agree, your Highness,” Mei finally concluded.

“Hah!” the Prince rose, and crossed his arms. “I suppose you could do better?”

Mei felt her cheeks tinge pink. “I would never dare to suggest that I was better than his Highness…”

The Prince tapped his head. “Of course, I am forgetting that you are a faithful copy. Well then, sit here and show me how it is done.”

Mei hesitated, but the Prince moved out of the way and gestured to the cushion. Swallowing, Mei knelt down and picked up the brush.

“Try this one,” the Royal said, picking the most difficult poem.

“Yes, my Prince,” Mei nodded and dipped the slim brush in the ink, tapping off the excess. She could feel the Prince close to her, peering over her shoulder, and she willed her hand to be steady. She copied the characters (most of which she could not read) onto the parchment.

“Well met, Chen Mei,” he smiled. “You can write better than a Prince.”

“Is it a love poem, your Highness?” she asked.

“What makes you think that?” the royal asked.

“ _Ai_ is used many times…” Mei replied, placing her hands in her lap. She was unable to rise, as the prince was standing close behind her. It made her skin tingle, and her heart was hammering far too fast.

“You are correct. I shall read it to you…

 _Clouds float like works of art,_  
_Stars shoot with grief at heart,_  
_Across the Milky Way the Cowherd meets the Maid._  
_When Autumn’s Golden Wind embraces Dew of Jade,_  
_All the love scenes on earth, however many, fade._  
_Their tender love flows like a stream,_  
_Their happy date seems but a dream,_  
_How can they bear a separate homeward way?_  
_If love between both sides can last for aye,_  
_Why need they stay together night and day?”*_

“It’s beautiful…” Mei sighed. “Thank you, my Prince.”

“You are welcome…” the royal smiled, before wandering to the window. “Is it beautiful, though, when the lovers cannot be together?”

“I think so,” Mei reflected. “There can be beauty, even in sadness…”

For some reason, she thought of the Black Cat and his cursed green eyes.

“Interesting, Chen Mei,” the Prince replied. “Do you think their love is worth it? When they can only meet once a year?”

The seamstress considered this. “I think, if their love is real, they would treasure every moment together, no matter how short.”

The Prince stared at her, and Mei flushed, looking down to the ground once more.

“I agree,” he said softly. “I will retire now, Chen Mei. You may return to your room.”

“Sweet dreams, my Prince,” Mei bowed, leaving the royal to look out of his window, in deep thought.

 

* * *

 

“Sweet dreams,” Liang repeated, once Mei had departed. He picked up Mei’s calligraphy and traced the perfect characters. “No one has said that to me since my mother died.”

“More poetry!” Plagg complained. “Are you going to study for the rest of your life, then?”

Liang sighed, and sat down on his bed. “It’s your fault I’m trapped in here, you know. You promised me freedom, but now I cannot roam as Black Cat, with such a price on my head.”

“Hah! As if you would anyway,” Plagg scoffed. “You listen to your _princess_ more than you do to me!”

“I hurt her, Plagg,” Liang said hollowly, pinching the bridge of his nose. “And I hurt my own people.”

“Fine, fine,” the Cat God sighed. “I’ll limit the power, okay? So you can use it only once a day. That way, you’ve less chance of causing danger.”

Liang raised his eyebrow. “That doesn’t solve the monk problem.”

“Hmm…” Plagg examined the bowl of fermented soy beans. “How about a staff? I have the power to give you a weapon. It could be defensive, protect you against the priests.”

“Really?” the prince perked up. He glanced outside the window, catching sight of the moon. How badly he wanted to run along the pointed rooftops of the palace again, and feel the wind on his face, and taste the night air. The palace was suffocating him.

Plagg yawned. “It’s well within my ability.”

Liang remembered his conversation with Mei. She had begged him to stay away from the palace grounds, but he couldn’t stray too far. His hearing as Black Cat was phenomenal, but if he ventured beyond the walls, he was unable to keep tabs on anyone who may be looking for him. Sometimes his father summoned him unexpectedly for a drinking session with the court officials, or the General wanted to talk about current campaigns. He had to stay within distance of the palace if he was to keep this secret hidden.

“Let’s give it a day or two more to calm down,” Liang reflected, sinking into bed. He blew out the nearby candle, and the dark swallowed him, covering him in loneliness like a shroud.

 

* * *

 

“There she is!” Mingzhu announced, as Mei sat down for the morning meal. “Lady luck herself!”

“Huh?” the seamstress blinked at the new nickname.

“Well, you did get promoted pretty quickly,” Ai giggled. “And now, you’re serving the Prince! I’m so jealous…”

“It’s nerve-wracking,” Mei confessed. “I would rather be sewing somewhere than be constantly in his presence. I just know I’m going to embarrass myself!”

“Have you seen him…unclothed yet?” Mingzhu asked, her voice low.

Mei promptly choked on her tea, and Daiyu helpfully patted her back.

“Mingzhu!” Ai admonished her. “You shouldn’t talk about the Prince like that!”

“Oh come on,” her friend rolled her eyes. “I hear how guys talk! I’m sure the Prince is no different.”

“He’s not like that,” Mei insisted. “He’s very sweet and polite.”

“I bet he’s an animal in—” Mingzhu managed, before Ai clamped her hands over the girl’s mouth.

“Morning, chef!” she said cheerfully, as Mei’s father walked by.

“Morning, girls,” he beamed. “Food okay? Mei, the Prince’s breakfast is ready.”

“Great!” Mei stood up, glad to escape the conversation.

 

* * *

 

“Prince Liang often has an upset stomach first thing, so he doesn’t eat a lot,” Mei’s mother explained. There was a small bowl of rice porridge and some fruit: persimmons, apples and peaches. The dish had been decorated with bright flowers, fresh from the garden.

“Do we have any mint herb?” Mei asked her mother, who motioned over to a wooden cabinet. The seamstress searched through the glass vials, and finally located the one she was looking for. Taking a few leaves, she placed them into a cast-iron pot, and lifted the heavy kettle from the stove, carefully pouring the water. It wouldn’t do to have another burn.

“Good luck,” her mother winked, and Mei nodded. She carefully carried the tray from the kitchen, and prayed that she wouldn’t spill anything along the way.

Peng nodded her in, and Mei cleared her throat. It was now drawing to end of the hour of the snake, but the Prince was still in bed.

“Good Morning, your Highness,” Mei said brightly, placing the tray down on the low table.

“Is it?” the royal mumbled. The drapes were closed, so she was unable to see his face.

Mei smiled behind her hand and set the tray down, opening the shutters to flood the room with light.

“What’s this?” the royal questioned, as he took the lid from the pot.

“Peppermint tea, your Highness,” Mei explained, kneeling down to pour the drink. “My mother told me that you struggle in the morning. This will help to settle your stomach.”

“I see,” the Prince nodded. His eyes were not as bright as usual, and his hair was rumpled from sleeping. Still, he was handsome, unguarded like this.

“Please be careful,” Mei said, offering the cup to the Prince. “It is very hot.”

“It smells refreshing,” he noted. “Your mother is…?”

“She works in the kitchen, with my father,” Mei explained. “They are wonderful cooks. Master Fu recommended them, and that is why we moved to the Palace.”

The Prince took a sip of his tea, and sighed. “This is good. Thank you, Chen Mei.”

“It is my pleasure, your Highness,” she bowed. “How would you like to be dressed today?”

“I like to visit my mother’s shrine first thing,” the Prince said. “Perhaps you can pick something appropriate? You have a better eye for clothing than I.”

Mei touched her head to the floor, before opening the large lacquer drawers. The golden robe lay neatly in the top, and much of the clothing beneath was plain white. Finally, the trays at the bottom presented some colour. There was a beautiful jade coloured robe, with silver brocade.

“How is this, your Highness?” Mei asked, lifting the tray above her head.

The Prince nodded. “My mother did love green, so I believe this would please her.”

Mei smiled and bowed. “Please take your time with breakfast, your highness. I will help you dress when you are ready.”

 

* * *

 

The late Empress’ shrine was located in the Peacock Palace, in the East of the grounds, near the Black Cat’s altar. Although Prince Liang’s mother was buried in the ancestral tombs, the Prince had begged his father to keep his mother’s palace vacant so he could honour her spirit and uphold his duty of filial piety. The Emperor had agreed: after all, this was the woman who had granted him his first son, and only heir.

Mei walked behind the Prince as he bowed and entered the palace. It was small and spotless. The seamstress placed the box of incense before the altar and touched her forehead to the ground.

“Mother, this is Chen Mei. She repaired the golden robe you carefully made for me, so I can wear it in memory of you. I am grateful to the Gods for her arrival in the palace.”

Mei blushed and bowed once more. “It is my honour to serve your Highness. I am blessed that the Gods saw me fit to serve yourself and the late Empress’ memory…”

The Prince lit the purifying incense and knelt in front of the altar. “Thank you. I would like to pray alone for a while.”

“Of course, my Prince,” Mei nodded and backed away slowly away. The royal’s back gracefully bent forwards as he bowed to his dead mother’s spirit, and the seamstress felt a rush of affection for him. How alone he seemed in the world!

It was a fresh day and a slight wind whipped through the grounds as Mei waited outside. She spotted Daiyu and Ai in the distance, but didn’t dare raise her voice in case she disturbed the Prince.

Her friends noticed her as well, and hurried to her side. They didn’t return her smile.

“What has happened?” Mei asked, seeing the ashen look on their faces.

“There's to be a beheading at midday…” Daiyu spoke softly.

“What?" Mei gasped. "Who?"

"Two maids," Ai said sadly. "I didn't know them, but Mingzhu was friends with one of the girls, Fei Lang. They've been accused of poisoning Madame Yuhuan..."

"Is Madame Yuhuan dead?" Mei asked, feeling herself shake. She had never spoken to the concubine, but had heard much about her. It has been rumoured at one point that she would be made Empress, as she had been a favourite of the Emperor.

"No..." Daiyu looked around them carefully, and spoke behind her sleeve. "But it is said she has lost a child."

"She was pregnant?" Mei's eyes widened. "Why would she hide that she was carrying an heir to the throne?"

"The harem is dangerous," Ai explained. "You haven't been here long Mei, so you wouldn't know. But this sort of thing is common. Madame Yuhuan probably wanted to hide it, due to the recent marriage. She knew the Empress would be jealous at the news. But by hiding it, she had no protection."

"How awful..." Mei clasped her hands together. "The maids...do you think they did it?"

Ai shook her head. "Even if they did, they would have been ordered by up-high. Be careful, Mei. You are close to the Prince now, and have to work for the Empress. Keep your guard up, okay?"

"I promise," Mei nodded. "Thank you for warning me. You're both good friends. Be safe, too, all of you."

There were footsteps behind them, so Daiyu and Ai grasped her arm quickly and made their escape. The Prince stepped down the palace steps and smiled at her, and Mei dipped her head.

 _I will protect you, too..._ she promised silently.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in updates! I was organising Marichat May, then I got a new job, which means moving across the country, so I've been busy training the new person and packing ;;
> 
> If you've ever watched Chinese historical dramas, you will know the harem is back-stab central! This story isn't going to be all politics but it's important to remember it's the backdrop of this story.
> 
> * I couldn't get a Tang Dynasty poem to fit the mood, so I used this one instead, as it has the famous cross-lovers of Asian folklore. Name: Immortals at the Magpie Bridge《鹊桥仙》by Qin Guan (Song Dynasty)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone ^^ sorry for the delay in the chapter... I have been sick again ;; also been busy with a new job and trying to find a new place to live...

Mei was silent as she walked with the Prince back to his rooms. She couldn’t stop thinking about the maids that were to be beheaded… how painful it would be, the shame and upset their families would suffer.

“Are you quite well, Chen Mei?” the royal asked, once he was seated back at his desk. “Something seems to be bothering you.”

“Forgive me, your Highness,” Mei dipped her head. “I’m sorry for troubling you.”

“Not at all,” the Prince said, preparing ink, ignoring her offers to do so. “Is there anything I can assist with?”

Mei was struck dumb by the offer. She opened her mouth hesitatingly: “There is to be a beheading at midday. Two maids.”

“How awful,” Prince Liang set down his brush. “Friends of yours?”

“No,” Mei shook her head. “I did not know them… but still, my heart hurts for them. Madame Yuhuan… it is said she has lost a child.”

“Hmm,” the royal sat back, back stiffening. “Father’s favourite. I’m afraid matters of the harem are much beyond my control, Chen Mei. Even beyond the control of the Emperor. Besides, I do not have fond memories of Madame Yuhaun. She caused my mother much grief…”

“Forgive me,” the seamstress fell to her knees, and pressed her head to the floor. “I should have never have mentioned it.”

“You have a kind heart,” the Prince observed, getting to his feet, the rustling of his clothing filling her ears. “Sometimes too kind, Chen Mei. It may get you in trouble, one of these days...”

The seamstress felt herself start to shake. She had never been wary of the Prince before, but something in his tone made him feel unfamiliar to her.

“Rise,” he said, and Mei stumbled to her feet, keeping her head down. The Prince reached out and raised her chin with one finger, so she had to stare directly into his dark, black eyes.

“You will stay out of all matters involving the Empress, do you understand? That is an order.”

Mei nodded carefully, her lips pressed together. Her gentle Prince was suddenly terrifying, and she was completely bound to his will.

“Good girl,” he smiled, and cupped her cheek for mere seconds before returning to his desk. “Now, I would like some lunch, if you will.”

Mei bowed deeply, before rushing off to the kitchens, her heart stuttering.

 

* * *

 

“How is Ting?” Mei managed to get a hold of Hu Wenqian once she had calmed down. “I’m not sure how much longer I can stay away from my duties…”

“Pshhh,” the head seamstress puffed at her pipe. “I managed fine without you, didn't I? Your first duty is always to the Prince; do you understand? Without him, you’d still be slaving away in the kitchen.”

Mei bit her lip and looked down. She knew this was true, but the longer she stayed around the royal, the harder it was to ignore her feelings.

“It’ll be a few more days,” Hu Wenqian finally said, tapping ash into a stone dish. “I’m sure you can manage, girl.”

Mei bowed and left. As she crossed the courtyard, she heard the midday bell, and sent a silent prayer for the maids who were being beheaded. She hoped their deaths would be swift and merciful. She served the Prince his meal, but noticed he barely touched any of his food.

 

* * *

 

Some servant boys had already stoked the fires to warm the water and fill the tub. Mei was relieved, as her upper body strength was not particularly good, and it was hours of work. She added bath salts and checked the temperature before letting the Prince know the bath was ready. Mei’s hands were trembled slightly as she helped him take off his outer layers: today’s robes had been duck egg blue. She folded the silk over her arm and swallowed, reaching for his sash, but the Prince stepped away.

“I will finish the rest,” he smiled. Mei nodded fiercely, relieved, and folded the blue garment with great care while the Prince stepped into the other room. She heard the soft thump of his inner robes hitting the floor, and the splash of him stepping into the water. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Mei tied up her long sleeves so they would not dip into the bath.

“May I come in, your Highness?” she asked.

“Yes,” the Prince replied. Mei took care on the slippery floor, and settled behind the rim of the marble tub, trying to ignore the wetness that spread through her skirt.

She tried her best to ignore Liang’s strong shoulders and filled a jug with bath water. She gently tipped it over his hair, which was loose down his back.

Mei had never washed long hair before: her own was always kept short due to the nature of her work. The closest contact she had with such hair was in her village, when she had helped the brides by arranging the style of the moment with flowers and adornments. But washing was a much trickier business, and Mei took her time, covering the Prince’s ear carefully when tipping the jug, lathering the shampoo through his scalp but shielding his face so it would not drip.

The Prince closed his eyes, and Mei was able to gaze directly down on him for the very first time. She didn’t dare to do it for more than a few seconds, stealing glances that she would store for later. His skin was paler than hers and there was a tiny black beauty spot under his right eye. His jawline was firm, and his lips looked soft. The very thought of that made her start and nearly lose her grip of the jug.

Lathering again, Mei massaged the shampoo into his scalp. The Prince seemed tense and it was the very least she could do to relieve him from stress. Luckily, she did have experience with head massages, and the elderly women of her village had taught her well. The Prince made a sharp noise through his teeth and Mei immediately retracted her fingertips, bowing and apologising.

“I’m sorry, I was too rough…” she gasped.

“No…it wasn’t that…” his voice sounded funny, and as Mei was sitting behind him, she could not read his expression. “I was just surprised… you have so much strength in those tiny hands…”

Mei blushed and smiled. “Perhaps my sewing has hardened my fingers more than I thought.”

“You may continue, but not for too long. I fear I may be lulled to slumber…”

Mei bowed and touched her fingers once more to the Prince’s hair. It was such an intimate position, one that would only be expected between lovers in normal life. But the royal family were used to such service, and Mei was sure the Prince didn’t feel it strange at all.

After ensuring every strand was sud-soaked, Mei used the jug to rinse the royal’s hair completely clean. She couldn’t get over how long and silky it was. She gently wrung out the water as much as she could, then wound a towel around his hair.

“Your clean clothes are hanging here, your Highness,” Mei indicated. “I’ll wait for you in the other room.”

She bowed, and left him to dress.

 

* * *

 

Mei searched for the jade comb that she had seen before on the Prince’s desk. She sifted through papers and jumped, finding herself staring into her own reflection. Mei blinked and picked up the small mirror, seeing with dismay her flushed cheeks, no doubt from embarrassment and the heat of the bath. Her twin twists were neat at least, with red ribbon today, but she had splashes of water on the front of her robes and her skirt. Her socks were also soaked through, but without a spare, Mei couldn’t do much. She wiggled her toes dejectedly and put down the mirror. Peng had lit a fire and she stood nearby, hoping to dry out a little.

The Prince entered the room quietly and watched her hop from foot to foot as she tried to warm her feet.

“Chen Mei,” he spoke up, his voice husky from the bath. She squeaked and lost her balance.

“Pardon me,” she gasped, righting herself and bowing.

The Prince chuckled. “Take your socks off and dry them by the fire. You’re no use to me if you fall ill as well.”

Mei nodded quickly and obeyed, though it felt unseemly to be before him barefoot. The Prince was wearing cream sleeping garments with gold flecks. He had left the towel by the bath and his hair rippled in the firelight, like streaks of ink down fresh parchment.

“Could you?” he asked, handing her the comb. Mei dipped her head and pulled over a padded stool to the fire. The Prince lowered himself onto it with dignity and sat straight-backed. Mei knelt behind him and gently began to untangle the ends of his hair.

“You are much more careful than Ting,” Prince Liang laughed. “She claws through my hair like a mad cat.”

“I couldn’t!” Mei exclaimed. “I’ve never had long hair, so I can’t imagine how painful that would be…”

“Never?” the Prince asked, interested.

“No,” Mei said simply. “Long hair is no use in the fields. Plus, it’s a pain to dry in the winter. It’s easier to keep it short.”

“You don’t want to grow it, now you’re at the palace?” he inquired. “Since the court ladies do so?”

Mei laughed. “The court ladies also paint their faces and lower their necklines, but I don’t do that either, your Highness. It would look ridiculous on a commoner like me.”

“It’s nice to stand out from the crowd,” The Prince agreed. “But isn’t it the done thing among the servants? The ones that want to catch husbands?”

Mei quirked her lip, and then covered her mouth. “Perhaps. But they are pretty enough to begin with, my Prince.”

The royal turned, his expression shocked. “You don’t think you are pretty?”

Mei felt her cheeks turn pink, and she looked at the fire. “I know I’m not pretty, your Highness. If I had skin like yours, or even hair like yours, I would be beautiful. But I’m just plain Mei.”

The Prince stilled, and considered. “Can I tell you a secret, Chen Mei?”

She nodded seriously.

“I don’t like girls with painted faces and lowered necklines. I don’t like those that wear strong perfume or try to attract my attention with jewels in their hair. But I do like your coloured ribbons, Chen Mei,” the Prince explained, tweaking one of her hair twists, making her blush further. “And I like the colour of your skin. I like that you seem to glow, as if you were fresh from the fields. And I like that your fingertips are rough, because you have been working hard.”

“I…” Mei started, but shook her head. Words seemed to fail her.

“Could we be friends, Chen Mei?” the royal asked, leaning his chin on his folded hands. “I’ve never had a real friend before. But I feel I can talk to you, and you are honest with me.”

The seamstress looked into his dark eyes, which were sincere. There was a sense of loneliness there too, and a yearning for something.

“Of course, your Highness,” Mei bowed. “It would be my honour…”

The prince grinned, and extended his pinky. “Swear on it?”

Mei giggled. She hadn’t done such a thing since childhood, but she extended her pinky and crooked it around his. “I swear on my life.”

 

* * *

 

 

That night, Mei was restless. She couldn’t sleep for thinking about the Prince, and then her thoughts would be clouded with the beheading. Although she hadn't seen the incident, her imagination filled in the blanks: the noise of the blade, the parting of flesh. She had lost her appetite all day, and decided to take a walk to clear her head. It had been a while, and besides, she needed some inspiration for the autumnal robes. The weather was changing now, the nights becoming darker and colder, and Mei searched the trees and the rooftops for some inspiration. The dagger was safe in her pocket, and she left the earrings under her pillow.

In the distance, she could hear shouting, but dismissed it as the guards training. They could be pretty boisterous at times. Mei wrapped her shawl tighter around herself and headed to the Black Cat’s altar. He hadn’t been sighted since the fire, and she felt a slight twang of loss at seeing the area so bare.

After a walk around the gardens, Mei decided to head back. It was too cold and besides, she wasn’t in the mood to sketch tonight, her heart too preoccupied. The silence was suddenly interrupted by something landing on the roof above her. The seamstress yelped and covered her head instinctively. There was the sound of screeching down a slate, and then a large black figure rolled from the roof.

Mei rushed over to help. Black Cat lay on the ground, dazed, blood dripping from his lip. His mask lay cracked beside him, split in two pieces, and his dazzling eyes were closed. Even in the dark of the night, Mei knew something was terribly wrong.

“Find him!” a group of monks sprinted into the garden, and the seamstress had a split second to distract them. She shed her shawl and covered Black Cat, before running in the opposite direction and screaming. “He went that way!”

The monks immediately started to run, and Mei waited until they had disappeared from sight before kneeling down before the cursed figure.

“Black Cat! Wake up!” she tapped his face, and he moaned. “Quickly, you need to get out of here!”

“Gongzhu…” his bright green eyes were slits as he regarded her. “Can’t… move. Hit. Paralyzing ward.”

Mei frowned. So that’s why he had fallen from the roof.

“We need to get you out of here, before they come back…”

Mei tried to pull Black Cat up, but it was no use: he was too heavy for her. The bells in his hair jangled warningly with each attempt. She settled for slipping his arm around her neck, and hauling him to his feet.

“Stronger…than you look…” the cursed cat remarked.

“Be quiet for now,” Mei warned him. The mask was broken beyond repair, so she draped the shawl over his head. If they ran into any guards, they were done for anyway, but it would hide his neon eyes at least.

The ward was wearing off, so Black Cat could at least limp with Mei’s assistance. They had to duck into several dark corners to avoid detection, but they finally made it to the kitchen.

“My parents are asleep in my room,” she explained. “But you’ll be safe in the rice store. No one goes in there until early morning.”

Mei slowly slid the cupboard open so as not to make any sudden noises. She eased Black Cat onto the cotton sacks and shut the door behind them. At least with his eyes, they didn’t need candlelight.

“How are you feeling?” she asked, dabbing at his lip with a handkerchief.

“Sore,” he admitted.

“I thought you weren’t going out again,” Mei said crossly, folding her arms.

“Sorry,” he sighed. “I needed some air. The cat god limited my powers. I’ll be safer now. But the monks caught me off-guard.”

“Well, you’re lucky I was there,” Mei pouted. “Otherwise it would have been over for you.”

“Pft,” Black Cat blew air through his lips. “They’re no match for me. I was trying not to hurt them, you see. That’s why they got me so easily.”

Mei rolled her eyes, and he laughed. “I saw that. Night vision, you know.”

“Well, _you_ are hurt,” the seamstress sighed. “I hope you have healing powers, too.”

“Apparently I do,” Black Cat smirked, his fangs white in the moonlight that dripped in from the small window up high. “Now I get to test them.”

“In that case, I’ll let you sleep,” Mei said, brushing small grains of rice from her clothing. “Remember and leave before the hour of the rabbit, or my mama will catch you.”

“Wait, I haven’t thanked you yet…” Black Cat’s hand wrapped around her wrist, the bell in his hair tinkling. She turned to scold him, but before she knew it, warm lips caressed her own. Black Cat’s body was firm against hers, and as much as she knew this was a bad idea, Mei didn’t want to push away. His other hand rested against her cheek, softly stroking the skin.

“Mei…” he sighed against her mouth, before parting from her. “Thank you, for saving me. For truly caring about me.”

There was something in his voice that made her heart break, and Mei felt her throat close up.

“Black Cat…” she replied, reaching out for his hand, and squeezing it. “I don’t know who you are… but I do care about you. I’m a friend, if you ever need one.”

“Thank you…” the cursed figure smiled, before placing a gentle kiss against her knuckles. “You should go to bed now. Here, take your shawl.”

“Won’t you be cold without it?” Mei asked. “It’s not the warmest room…”

“I’ll just rest for a few hours, then return,” Black Cat explained. “I’m feeling better already.”

“Then…goodnight. And please be careful…”

“I will,” he nodded. “Sweet dreams, Gongzhu…”

 

* * *

 

 

Mei had confused dreams that night, and woke more tired in the morning for it. She reported to Hu Wenqian, who told her Ting was well enough to take over her duties. Mei returned to the workroom with a little disappointment in her heart. But she knew it was for the best. It was not her place to like the Prince, and besides, she had kissed Black Cat last night. Although she knew he was a flirt and did not take his affection seriously, Mei could not be that type of girl.

At lunch, her parents discussed their upcoming holiday allowance. They were to be granted the weekend off, as mark of their time in the palace so far. They had planned to visit Master Fu, to take him gifts and once again thank him for assisting them in their new life.

“Do you have other plans, daughter?” Mei’s father asked.

“I will accompany you,” the seamstress nodded. Master Fu was the only person she knew nearby that was trained in the way of the spirits, and Mei realised he may know something of Black Cat’s curse. If anything, she wanted to be a good friend to him, and what better way than to assist him and possibly free him from the Cat God?

“I’ll make the arrangements,” Mei’s mother beamed. “It will be good to see him again. I believe there are hot springs nearby, too.”

Mei nodded absently. The monks from Violet Mountain would be arriving in the next week or so. She hoped Master Fu would be able to offer her advice in time.

 

* * *

 

 "You kissed her," Plagg said, surprised. Liang coughed and looked around anxiously, but they were quite alone in his chambers.

"Black Cat can do that," the Prince smiled sadly. "I cannot."

The Cat God mused over this. "You really like her, don't you?"

Liang paused over his calligraphy. "She's the only person that knows both sides of me...and likes both. Plus, she's the only friend I've ever had."

Plagg munched thoughtfully on some beansprouts. "I never thought being a Prince could be so complicated. You can't have what you really want, even with my power."

Liang shrugged and dipped the brush into the fresh ink. "As long as I can see her. It's enough."

The Cat God tilted his head. It was the first time he had heard the Prince lie.

 

 

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No spoilers but so glad we're getting more origins info in the new season! Master Fu rocks~
> 
> The speech about Yin and Yang was edited from wiki, sorry ;;

Master Fu greeted them like old friends. They had a hearty meal of freshly caught crabs and wild mountain plants, and Mei felt herself relax for the first time in weeks.

Her parents went to use the hot springs first, and the seamstress was glad to find time with Master Fu on her own.

“You have something you wish to discuss, hmm?” the wise man asked her. Mei nodded and knelt before him, holding her teacup to her chest.

“Master, have you ever heard of a curse that a human can control?”

Master Fu sat back on his heels and hummed. “No, I don’t believe I have. Why do you ask?”

Mei bit her lip. “I have a friend… back at the castle. He wears a ring, that is cursed by the Cat God. He can change at will, and it gives him powers. But it’s a dark magic, master. I’m worried it will consume him.”

“A dark magic, indeed,” Master Fu nodded. “What are his powers?”

Mei thought hard. “He has sharp claws, and a green fire that can destroy things. He can see in the dark.”

“Aha. So your friend is the one that has been causing all the commotion, the one that the monks have been sent for?”

Mei nodded and set her cup down. “He is not a bad person, master. I can tell. I feel he is overwhelmed by the power… I sense he is not happy in his normal life. I wish to help him. The monks will destroy him…”

“Indeed…” Master Fu rubbed his chin. “This is a tricky problem you come to me with, child. Let me think on it.”

 

* * *

 

Mei waited anxiously for Master Fu’s answer. She struggled to unwind, worrying about what Black Cat would be up to in the castle in her absence. She hoped he had learned his lesson after being hurt, and wondered if the Cat God would give him a new mask. As she washed herself before entering the hot spring, she couldn’t help but think of the kiss they had shared. She shook her head and slapped her cheeks. Thinking about the cursed boy like that would do her no good at all.

Dipping a wooden bucket into the hot spring, Mei doused herself, ridding her body of any lingering soap. She stepped in, her muscles immediately soothed by the steaming water. The smell of sulphur lingered in the air and Mei could feel it coat her skin, softening it. Master Fu had told them about the healing properties of the water. The seamstress was healthy enough, but she could use all the help she could get. She cupped water into her hands and splashed her face, willing it to make her beautiful.  

_“I like the colour of your skin. I like that you seem to glow, as if you were fresh from the fields. And I like that your fingertips are rough, because you have been working hard.”_

Mei blushed, recalling the Prince’s words. He hadn’t called her pretty, but he had complimented her and it warmed her heart.

After soaking in the water for as long as her body could handle, Mei dressed in clean sleeping robes and wrung out her hair. She was able to tie it in a high bun, not having to worry about appearances. It would dry by the fire. Her parents were indulging in some rice wine when she returned, and Master Fu asked permission to give her a small cup.

She sipped, the chilled wine a wonderful contrast with the hot bath. Truly, this was happiness. Though she missed the Prince.

 

* * *

 

Before they were due to leave, Master Fu asked Mei to assist him in picking some herbs. The seamstress gladly walked with him further into the heart of the mountain, where they could not be overheard.

“This is a shrine to my ancestors…” Master Fu explained, and they both bowed low to the small wooden structure. He placed offerings of autumn fruits and nuts before bowing his head.

“I have thought over your problem, my child, and there is only one way I believe we can solve it. You have a strong spirituality, but that alone is not powerful enough to defeat this evil. I have consulted my books, and I believe only the Cat God or this young man can lift this curse. If he is unwilling, it will be difficult to force him.”

Mei bowed her head. “I had feared as much.”

“However,” Master Fu smiled at her, eyes glinting. “If what you really want is to protect your friend, I can help you. As the Cat God’s destructive nature rampages in the castle, it needs something to counter it. In other words, my dear, you need to be the yang to his yin.” 

Mei blinked. “But Master,” she asked, “how can I be yang, the masculine side?”

The wise man patted her hand. “To be yang is not to be a man, Mei. Think of yourselves as two sides of a whole. It would be impossible for a race to contain only men or only women; the population would disappear in a single generation. Yet, men and women together create new generations that allow the race they mutually create (and mutually come from) to survive. The interaction of the two gives birth to things, like manhood. You have qualities: you are strong, brave and resilient. This is yang.”

“I see…” Mei rubbed her forehead. “So, I need to balance his negative force with a positive force?”

“Exactly,” Master Fu nodded. “I have searched, and found the appropriate spell. I can give you the power of creation, that will balance his power of destruction. If you can whole-heartily agree to protect him and be his positive force, it shall be.”

Mei could feel herself tremble. Was she ready for such a power?

“I will not force you into this,” Master Fu explained. “If you wish to protect your friend, it is the only choice. Otherwise, he will have to be destroyed by the monks. The Cat God is greedy, and will stop at nothing.”

Mei nodded. “I understand. What do I have to do?”

Master Fu held out his hand. “Like his cursed ring, you will have to wear a blessed object. Do you have something in your possession?”

Mei instinctively reached for her bracelet, the one given to her by the village girls. She slipped it off and put it in Master Fu’s palm. “Will this work?”

The old man rubbed it between his fingers and frowned. “I sense you have something even more precious to you. It must be a sacrifice, in order to make it as powerful as possible.”

Mei hesitated, then reached into her skirt pocket. She had brought the earrings with her, to keep them safe, and also to remind her of the Prince.

She passed the black box to Master Fu, and he nodded, opening it and extracting the red jewels.

“Cover my hands with yours, Mei,” he instructed. “I will begin the incantation.”

 

* * *

 

Mei was greeted in the kitchen by Mingzu, Ai and Daiyu.

"You’re back!” Mingzu beamed. “How was your trip?”

“Really refreshing,” Mei admitted. “Master Fu treated us well.”

“New hairstyle?” Ai asked, commenting on the fact Mei wore her braids low, looping over her ears.

“Ahh, yeah!” Mei giggled. “I just wanted to try something new.”

“Or maybe, you wanted Prince Liang to notice?” Mingzhu teased.

Mei went red and pushed her friend gently. “Shh!”

In truth, the new hairstyle was to cover the earrings. Master Fu told her she must wear them at all times, otherwise the spell would not work. She had met her own god, Tikki, who was polite and deferential. She liked sweet things, like sugar almonds, and Master Fu explained that she would need to recharge after using her power.

“I can’t show you the magic without the Black Cat being here,” Master Fu had apologised. “But you’ll know what to do, when the time is right.”

Mei touched her hairstyle, checking the braids were still pinned over her ears securely. Now it was Tikki that lived in her skirt pocket, though the small red god slept most of the time, so it was a welcome arrangement.

 

* * *

 

“You’re back,” Hu Wenqian grunted. Mei bowed to her teacher, and the head seamstress indicated a heap of plum silk. “We’ve to use this for the Empress’ new robes. I’ve approved your falling leaves sketch. I think gold thread will work best.”

Mei nodded, and began to get to work. The mountain trip had inspired her, as the leaves were already changing colours in the mountainside, and she could see the pretty edges in her mind’s eye. She was content to embroider for hours, and Hu Wenqian smiled at her work.

The next morning, Mei was finishing some stitching on the sleeves of the robe when there was a commotion outside. She set down her needle just as the ladies-in-waiting slid into the room, their silk rustling. The Empress followed them, and Mei quickly touched her forehead to the ground.

“Empress, you honour us with this visit,” Hu Wenqian said.

“I am here to inspect my new robes,” the Empress said, her eyes flashing. “Am I to believe they are not ready yet?”

“Forgive us, Empress,” Hu Wenqian bowed, “We have been hard at work. They will be ready soon.”

“Hmph!” the royal narrowed her eyes. “You there, Chen Mei! Why have you not finished my gown yet? Was a week not enough?”

“My greatest apologies…” Mei bowed her head, feeling her heart start to quiver. She had not forgotten the fates of the maids. “It is nearly ready, Empress.”

“Such insolence!” the Empress said, thwacking her fan against the work table. “I hear that Chen Mei went on a trip to the mountains. Is the clothing for the Mother of the Nation not more important?”

“It is my fault, Empress,” Hu Wenqian insisted. “Please, punish me. Chen Mei was looking after Prince Liang while one of the servants was ill. That is the reason for the delay.”

“Was she now?” the Empress curled her lip. “So you put your duties to the Crown Prince before me? Come here!”

Mei rose, and made her way towards the Empress. The ladies-in-waiting giggled at her and covered their mouths with their long sleeves. The seamstress made to kneel but the Empress was too quick, and struck her across the face.

“Chen Mei is to receive forty lashes!” the Empress announced. “Let it be noted, Sui-Sui.”

“Yes, my lady,” one of the woman nodded, bowing.

“Please, Empress,” Hu Wenqian stepped forward. “Let me be punished. Chen Mei has done nothing wrong.”

“Be quiet!” the royal screamed, pushing the older woman back. “You have spoiled her! Peasant stock should not be serving in the Crown Prince’s chambers. She will learn her lesson after midday!”

With that, the Empress turned on her heel and left, leaving the seamstress shaking in her wake.

 

* * *

 

 

“Forgive me,” Hu Wenqian said, grasping Mei’s shoulder. “I shouldn’t have asked you to cover Ting’s duties.”

“No, it is my fault,” Mei hung her head. “I shouldn’t have taken the trip when I knew the robes were to be made. I deserve to be punished.”

“You are entitled to holidays, like everyone else,” Hu Wenqian insisted. “I will not work my staff to the death, unlike others here.”

Mei smiled and bowed to her senior. She knew she should be thankful that it was only lashes, but she was scared of the pain and humiliation.

“I will go to Prince Liang and explain,” Hu Wenqian comforted her. “He will stop this madness.”

The guards came for her at midday, before the Head Seamstress had returned. Mei went with them quietly, feeling the eyes of everyone in the palace on her as they passed. The punishment was to be held in the same courtyard where the beheadings had been, and the seamstress willed herself to be strong. It was better to take the punishment, and then perhaps the Empress would forgive her.

“Kneel,” the royal guard who was to lash her was dressed all in black. His face showed no emotion as he tended to the bamboo stick. Mei didn’t want to ruin her clothes, so she ignored the other guards watching, exchanging bets about how many lashes it would take for her to scream. She undid her sash and slipped the pale pink robe down her shoulders. Her breasts were bound, so she still preserved her modesty, but it didn’t stop the guards from leering.

The gong rang for midday, and Mei braced herself, fists clenched on her knees. The first hit was so quick that she didn’t even feel pain, and it wasn’t until the second blow that she gasped. The guard was relentless, hitting her without pause, sometimes striking the same part of her skin, making her jerk, other times landing on unblemished flesh.

Mei had lost count of lashes, her lips bloody as she bit them to stop from crying out, but she couldn’t stop the tears slipping down her cheeks. She could hear the guard grunting from exertion and she wondered when the torture would end. Her body was going into shock, and her skin felt like it was molten.

“Stop!” a voice called out, and the guard stumbled. Mei whimpered, trying her best not to keel over.

“The punishment is stayed,” the voice said, and the seamstress tried to find the source of it through her tears. When she realised it was the Prince, shame flooded through her, and she wept even harder.

“I’ve got you,” Hu Wenqian was at her side, covering her in a blanket. “You’re such a brave girl, Mei. It’s all over now.”

Mei didn’t care. She looked a mess, and no doubt her back was even worse. She hadn’t wanted to Prince to see her like this. Just how many times was he going to save her? She felt pathetic.

“Bring her to my rooms,” Prince Liang urged, and they left the courtyard quickly. Mei could barely see where she was going, clinging to the Head Seamstress like a newborn.

“My parents?” Mei asked thickly.

“At the market,” the senior seamstress told her. “They didn’t see it, don’t worry.”

 

* * *

 

 

They reached the Prince’s rooms and the royal doctor was already waiting for them. Mei hadn’t even tried to fix her clothes, as the thought of any material rubbing against her back made her sick.

“Lie her down here,” the doctor urged. Mei made to protest, as it was the Prince’s bed, but Hu Wenqian hissed at her not to struggle. The cold silk was nice against her flushed cheeks and the doctor applied something cool and sticky to her lower back.

“Let her rest for a few hours, and keep her hydrated,” the doctor urged. Mei slid into unconsciousness, barely aware of someone stroking her hair. 

*

When Mei awoke, it was dark, and she was in an unfamiliar room. She panicked, scrambling against the silk sheets, when a gentle hand touched her wrist.

“Chen Mei,” she recognised the Prince’s soft voice in the dark. “Are you well?”

“Your Highness,” Mei stuttered. “What am I doing here?”

The Prince sighed. “This is the only place in the palace you are safe. If you try to return to your room, I have no doubt the Empress will send her guards to torture you. She is not happy that I intervened…”

Mei swallowed. She was lying on her front still, and couldn’t see the Prince that well, but only knew he was beside her.

“Why did you intervene, my Prince?” Mei asked, her voice breaking. “The Empress will truly hate me now.”

“You remember my order?” the royal asked.

“Yes,” Mei nodded. “I tried, your Highness, I really did!”

“I know…” the Prince said, stroking her hair once more. “Hu Wenqian explained all. And now I will hide and protect you, as you once did for me…”

Mei did not understand, but she was in too much pain to think straight.

“I will apply more of the medicine to your back. Is that all right?” the Prince asked, carefully.

“I can do it!” Mei gasped, as she tried to rise.

“Nonsense,” the royal laughed bitterly. “You can barely move. Ting has gone to bed already, otherwise she could do it for you. Allow me...”

Mei gritted her teeth as the cool balm was applied. It helped, but her skin was so raw and sensitive that it stung.

“How many?” she asked, feeling herself drift to consciousness. There was a silence, and the she heard the Prince’s voice, angry.

“Nineteen. I cannot even imagine what condition you would be in if I hadn’t got there in time…”

“Thank you, my Prince…” Mei sighed, feeling sleep take her once again.

 

* * *

 

 

“Father,” Prince Liang touched his forehead to the floor, then rose. The Emperor looked at his son over the rim of his wine cup.

“You have angered your mother,” the Emperor said. “You must apologise to her.”

Liang gritted his teeth, resisting the urge to denounce that woman as his family member. “I shall, father. But I appointed Chen Mei as my seamstress before your marriage. Please let the Empress know that I was only protecting my servant.”

“Hmm,” his father grumbled. “Very well, son. But if I do this, you must agree to be married soon. Your mother worries about you. These servant girls are wicked, trust me. They will do anything to reach the royal bed.”

Liang hide his scowl behind his sleeve, thinking of poor Mei who rested in his chambers as they spoke.

“Very well, father,” the Prince bowed. “If it will make you happy.”

“Excellent,” the Emperor nodded, his cheeks ruddy with wine. “I will ask your mother to make the arrangements. She will find an excellent match.”

 

* * *

 

“Is there something different about her, Plagg?” Prince Liang asked, upon returning to his chambers. He knelt beside the bed, so he could stroke Mei’s hair. “I seem more attached to her then usual.”

Plagg frowned, floating in the air above the seamstress. Something was different, he just couldn’t out his claw on it.

“Probably you’re more drawn to her because she’s injured,” the Cat God shrugged. “You’re being protective.”

“Perhaps…” Prince Liang’s eyes glinted. “It makes me want to leave a nasty surprise for the Empress. What do you think, Plagg?”

The Cat God grinned, bearing his fangs.

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

“Empress,” a voice cooed, as the wind rustled the drapes of her bed. “Empresssss….”

The royal awoke, her eyes wide as she realised the window of her chamber had been flung open.

“What is the meaning of this?” she shouted. “Guards! Guards!”

“Sadly, they are all sound asleep,” the voice cackled. A figure stepped out of the darkness, cloaked in shadows. The Empress swallowed upon seeing the glimmering green eyes, piercing into her very soul.

“What are you doing here?” the Empress demanded.

Black Cat grinned, his fangs bright and deadly in the moonlight. “You hurt something very precious to me, Empress…” the feline’s clawed fingers flexed and green fire illuminated the darkness. “Sadly, I made a promise to never hurt humans ever again. So instead, I’ll destroy everything you hold dear.”

The Empress screamed as the cat demon clawed along her precious chests of jewels and perfume. Jasmine scent filled the air as glass bottles smashed and jade crumbled into ash.

Black Cat grinned as his father’s wife moaned and wailed. He was careful not to harm anything that had been made by Mei’s hand.

“Goodnight, Empress. Sleep well…”

 

* * *

 

Mei drifted in and out of consciousness for three days. Her father came and fetched her and took her to their rooms, explaining that she would be safe now.

“Has something happened?” Mei asked, as her mother helped to apply the salve.

“The Empress was visited by the Black Cat,” her father told her, shuddering. “She’s had a nervous breakdown. Which is in your favour, my precious jewel, as she will have forgotten all about you.”

Mei hung her head. “Forgive me. I have disgraced our family name.”

“Nonsense,” Mei’s mother said. “Why would the Prince take you under his wing if you had done wrong?”

The seamstress bit her lip. She could vaguely remember a conversation with the Prince in his chambers, but she was unsure how much of it had been a fever dream.

 

* * *

 

When she finally returned to work a week later, Mei’s friends greeted her with sympathetic eyes and gentle touches.

“How is it?” Ai asked carefully as they ate breakfast.

“My parents won’t tell me how bad it looks,” Mei sighed. “But I doubt I’ll be able to marry now.”

The girls shuffled and looked uncomfortable. “At least the Empress is no longer looking for you. The monks are to arrive tonight!”

“Tonight?” Mei touched her earlobes thoughtfully. “Did anyone else see Black Cat when it happened?”

“No,” Daiyu replied. “He must have been in a terrible rage, though, to enter the Empress’s bedchambers. I heard he left nothing but the bedclothes she was wearing.”

“Oh, and the wedding robe that you made,” Ai perked up. “He didn’t touch that.”

Mei chewed her rice silently. Had Black Cat heard about her punishment, and acted out of anger on her behalf? Or was it revenge for his normal self, that was somehow connected to the palace? Had he been personally wronged by the Empress?

Tonight, she would find out.

 

* * *

After taking painkillers prescribed by the doctor, Mei wrapped up in her shawl and checked her ears were covered by her braids. Her dagger was safe in her pocket, and Tikki was fed and dozing in the bag concealed by her skirt.

The seamstress ventured to Black Cat’s altar, but he found her before she had even placed the steamed buns on the shrine.

“Gongzhu!” he exclaimed, landing in front of her. He had a new mask, which he drew back from his face upon greeting her. “You’re hurt! I don’t think you should be wandering around at this time of night.

_So he does know..._

“I had to see you, Black Cat,” Mei stepped forward, and grabbed his hand. “Did you hear? The monks from Violet Mountain arrive tonight. You must leave this place, immediately!”

“Oh, Mei,” Black Cat laughed. “I’ve already told you, they are no match for me.”

“But they are!” the seamstress insisted, shaking the young man by his shoulders. “Trust me. I have spoken to Master Fu, and they can destroy you. Please, run away!”

“Gongzhu…” Black Cat leaned close, wrapping a loose strand of her hair around his claw and kissing it. “I would rather die, than give up my freedom.”

“Please…” Mei begged, and she could feel her eyes well up with tears. “Please…you can’t keep destroying things because you are angry!”

“The Empress will have everything replaced in a week,” Black Cat dismissed her concerns. “She needed a good scare. She needed to know that she is not all powerful. Who else will keep her in check?”

“I don’t want you to do this anymore,” Mei sobbed, leaning against his chest. “I’m scared for you.”

Black Cat sighed, and tilted her face up with a crooked finger. “How cruel, Chen Mei, to use your own brand of magic…”

“I…I don’t know what you mean…” the seamstress whispered, as tears caught on the tips of her lashes.

The bell tinkled as Black Cat leaned down and wiped away her tears, pressing his lips to hers. Mei shuddered and grabbed onto his clothing, trying to anchor herself.

“That’s him!” came a shout in the distance. “He’s captured one of the servants!”

Mei sprang back and gasped, taking in the scene. Around twenty monks in bright purple robes were racing towards them, with staffs and spears. Black Cat growled and pulled the seamstress behind him, green fire spurting from his claws.

“Run away!” he rasped at her, but Mei shook her head. She couldn’t just leave him like this. She could sense the spiritual powers of the monks, and he didn’t stand a chance.

 

* * *

 

The first ofuda struck Black Cat, charged by lightening, and he yowled and shrugged it off. He drew a silver staff of his own and battled against the monks, fighting three at a time while the others mumbled incantations.

Mei could feel the spell weaving around them, trapping Black Cat in the centre. She begged him time and time again to run, but he ignored her, hissing and clawing with all his might. Paper wards began to plaster over his body, like a second skin.

The seamstress could only watch helplessly as the monks not engaged in battle made a circle. Holy white light began to spread under their feet, forming a spell to bind and eliminate. Black Cat was unaware until the power locked his feet, making him drop the staff and yell out.

“Be gone, evil apparition!” shouted the monk leading the prayer circle. “Return back to the world from whence you came!”

“No!” Mei gasped, and Black Cat was hit with beams of pure white light. He began to writhe and scream, his arms stuck down by his sides, useless.

The seamstress could see the monks were ready to deliver the finishing blow, and she did the only thing she could do. She jumped in front of Black Cat, and wrapped her arms around him. His green eyes widened in panic and he tried to shake her off, but it was too late. The white light surrounded them in a cage, blistering and burning them. Mei cried out, her earlobes tingling with energy. She felt the small red god burst from her bag, and a scarlet light began to filter through the white holy power.

The seamstress clung closer to Black Cat, feeling him shudder under her touch. The world was seeped in red, and with a massive bang, the white light died away, and the monks were blown back. The paper wards disintegrated with a puff of scarlet smoke.

“What’s happening?” Black Cat gasped, as Mei transformed into her divine self.

“I’ll explain later,” she said, grabbing him under the arm. “Let’s go!”

And so they fled, over the rooftops of the palace.

 

* * *

 

 

They caught their breath in the nearest city, resting on top of a wooden bell tower. Black Cat was clearly in a lot of pain, but he couldn’t take his eyes from Mei.

“What…what did you do?” he gasped, dropping his staff carelessly.

Mei caught her reflection in the shine of the bell. Her mouth dropped open as she regarded herself. A red silk scarf with black spots was wrapped around her eyes and trailed behind her in the wind. A matching red, backless tunic covered her chest, with armoured shoulder sleeves. The tunic was tucked into floaty red fighting pants, and a plated red and black armour belt secured the outfit. The pants had several layers, giving the impression of beetle wings resting on her hips. Black cuffs secured her wrists and black flat sandals completed the outfit.

“It’s the Ladybug god…” Mei explained, touching the scarf that covered her eyes. “In the same way that you were cursed, I was blessed.”

“But…why?” Black Cat croaked.

Mei smiled and crouched down next to him. It seemed he was going into some type of shock.

“I asked Master Fu how I could save you,” Mei explained. “And because I didn’t have the power to do that, he granted me the ability to protect you, instead.”

“Mei…” Black Cat ducked his head, and tears spilled from his bright green eyes. “You’ve shown more kindness to me than I’ve ever known, and you don’t even know who I am…”

“It’s doesn’t matter who you are,” the seamstress explained, leaning across and placing a palm against his chest. “You may be cursed, but your heart is pure. I can sense it.”

Black Cat took her hand in both of his and kissed her fingertips. “Thank you.”

 

* * *

 

 

Once dawn broke, they snuck back to the castle.

“You can’t go out in this form without me, okay?” Mei made him promise. “We’ll meet at the bell tower on the full moon.”

“Yes, my lady,” Black Cat agreed with a bow.

Mei was tired by the time she returned to her rooms, but as she changed into her sleeping robes, she was astonished to realise the shredded skin of her back had healed.

“It’s one of the advantages of being blessed,” Tikki whispered to her, in-between nibbling sugar almonds. “That’s why Black Cat’s mask repaired itself.”

Mei nodded thoughtfully. It seemed their cursed and blessed forms were very powerful indeed.

 

* * *

 

The kitchen was in uproar the next morning with the news. Apparently Black Cat had captured a servant girl, and stolen her from the castle with a bright white light. The monks from Violet Mountain, having just arrived, had no idea who she was, and so it was a mystery. Every female was called to report to their superior, and Hu Wenqian rolled her eyes at the fuss.

“Well, it seems that seamstresses do not whet the beast’s appetite,” she remarked, after the roll-call was completed. “Now, let’s get back to work, shall we?”

Mei hide her smile as she continued embroidering the falling leaves for the Empress’ gown. The royal had moved bedchamber, claiming her previous one was haunted and she could not sleep. Monks prayed outside her palace and burned incense to ward off evil spirits.

 

* * *

 

 

“Father…” Prince Liang bowed before the Emperor and took his time rising. “You asked to see me?”

“Yes,” the Emperor clapped his hands, and the servants left them. “Your mother is unwell, and so the engagement will not be as quick as I hoped. However, I have instructed my trusted adviser to bring together the most skilled and beautiful daughters from my Lords across the lands. They will be arriving in a few weeks’ time, and then the Empress can view them personally, and determine their eligibility.”

“Yes, father,” Prince Liang said weakly.

“How wonderful it will be, to have a wife of your own,” the Emperor smiled. “You cannot rule this land without a woman at your side, my son. You must gain her trust, before you take my place, and then she can successfully rule the harem.”

The Prince swallowed back the bile rising in his throat. He didn’t want to succeed his father, and he certainly didn’t want a wife that was chosen with political gain in mind.

After he was dismissed, Liang returned to his rooms to study. He ignored Plagg, who bombarded him with questions about his new Lady love, and memorised the works of his favourite poet:

_As bamboo chill drifts into the bedroom,_  
Moonlight fills every corner of our  
garden. Heavy dew beads and trickles.  
Stars suddenly there, sparse, next aren't.  
  
Fireflies in dark flight flash. Waking  
waterbirds begin calling, one to another.  
All things caught between shield and sword,  
All grief empty, the clear night passes. __  


Liang put down his brush, his hand trembling. His dark thoughts were threatening to overtake him, but had promised Mei he wouldn’t become Black Cat without her.

“Ting,” he called for his servant. “Arrange for the musicians to assemble in the courtyard, and bring good wine.”

“Yes, your highness,” Ting bowed near the door, and left to do his bidding.

 

* * *

 

“The Prince asked for the musicians tonight,” Mingzhu conferred with Mei, as they served the hot broth to the kitchen staff.

“Oh?” Mei’s eyebrow rose. “Is it a special occasion?”

“I don’t think so,” Mingzhu replied. “Ting said he also asked for wine. Perhaps he is celebrating something?”

“Hmm,” Mei pondered.

After they had eaten dinner, the seamstress was helping her parents clear away the plates when Ting tugged on her sleeve.

Mei smiled. “Do you need more wine? Is the Prince hungry?”

“No, they have all that they need for the moment,” the servant confessed. “I was hoping you could do me a favour, Mei?”

“Of course,” the seamstress nodded. “What can I help you with?”

 

* * *

 

 

Mei patted her cheeks as she made her way to the Prince’s chambers. No matter what she did, she couldn’t seem to rid herself of the rosy glow of embarrassment. How she wished she had heard Ting’s request before agreeing to it!

“Silly girl,” she admonished herself, before bowing to Peng. He eyed the glowing coal in the iron grill and nodded, stepping away from the door.

The room was in darkness as the Prince was still in the courtyard, so Mei carefully set down the iron grill on the floor and lit a paper lantern. The room was empty and cold, but it smelled of sandalwood still, and the seamstress felt herself relax.

She knelt down and slid the flat grill with burning coal under the bed, so that it would be warm for the Prince returning. It was a cloudless night and the heat of the day had disappeared. Besides, since he was outside drinking, he was more likely to catch a chill in a cold bed.

Mei rested her cheek against the edge of the silk pillow as she waited for the coal to do its work. She had passed out on this very bed after her punishment, and no doubt the Prince had been annoyed at the inconvenience. She hadn’t seen him since, and she wondered if he thought her to be weak. A poor maiden, always in need of saving. She sighed against the pillow, her eyes heavy.

She was suddenly jealous of Ting, would had begged her to look after the Prince for the night while she met her love, a solider who had returned from leave from the battlefield. There was no way Mei could refuse her.

She yawned. How wonderful, to have a lover to meet in secret...

 

* * *

 

Prince Liang stumbled into the room, ignoring Peng’s offers to help him.

“I’m going straight to bed,” the royal mumbled. “You’re dismissed.”

There was a paper lantern with a dying light just enough to see by, and Prince Liang shuck his outer robes. The fresh air, music and wine had done him good, and his mind was pleasantly blank. His body had relaxed, and he felt fluid, able to bend and move with ease.

The light went out with a small _putt_ but the Prince just smiled. The moon was fine tonight, though not full: that was to be the night of his meeting with Mei again. The thought of it warmed his heart and stomach, and a flutter of desire moved through him. How he wished to kiss her again, to let down her braided hair and inhale her sweet scent…

Prince Liang shook his head, embarrassed. His discipline was usually better than this, but the wine had made him weak. He stripped off his heavy silk robes and kept on only his white cotton tunic, as the night air was cold. He pulled back the drapes and climbed into bed, glad to find it had been warmed for him.

The Prince stretched out his arms, wishing that he had a lover to embrace. Not a wife picked by the Empress, but a true partner of his own, one that was devoted to him, and not politics or land.

The Prince was just drifting to sleep when he held a small whimper. Immediately alert, his eyes flashed open and he reached for the dagger under his pillow. Had an assassin managed to sneak by his guards?

Clouds passed across the moon and silver light filtered through the bamboo shutters. Liang swallowed as he realised there was another person in the room. A small head rested on the other pillow, arms tucked under a chin.

Liang’s whole body tingled. He didn’t need to tilt the face to know that it was Mei. The seamstress had clearly passed out in the middle of some task, and the dark shadows under her eyes betrayed her exhaustion.

The Prince bit his lip. He couldn’t lead her out the front door, as Peng was still there and it was forbidden for an unmarried woman to be in his room at this time of night, servant or not. He also couldn’t escape from the window as Black Cat, as she might wake and then his identity would be revealed.

Another whimper burst from Mei’s lips, and Liang’s heart twisted as he realised she was having a nightmare. Quietly and carefully, he crawled over to her and lifted her up, onto the bed. She stirred a little, but as Liang rested her down on the pillow properly and pulled the heavy quilt over them, she snuggled into him with a smile.

The Prince sighed and stroked her cheek. How utterly vulnerable she was right now. He was sure to give her a proper scolding in the morning. But for now, he curled up around her, kissing the top of her hair.

 

* * *

Mei woke a few hours later, completely disorientated. She was so warm and comfortable, but the lighting was completely wrong. She blinked, trying to understand her surroundings. The seamstress tried to move, but it seemed she was trapped by a heavy weight. Panicking, she pushed back, only to be greeted by the face of Prince Liang.

Mei opened her mouth in shock, but no words came. Instead she squeaked, her eyes large.

“Shh,” Prince Liang warned her, a finger brushing her lip. “If Peng hears you, even I cannot protect you.”

Mei swallowed and nodded in understanding. “Forgive me,” she whispered. “I don’t know how…”

The Prince firmly pinched her lips closed. “You were asleep by the bed. I didn’t want you to catch a chill. It’s too early to wake, so try and sleep a little more.”

Mei blinked. Try and sleep, knowing that the Prince was right beside her? Her body was crackling with electricity, and her cheeks were more flushed than before. She was sure he would be able to hear her heart, which was painfully thumping against her chest.

“Stop it,” the Prince glared at her, turning her head the other way. “Don’t look at me like that.”

Mei had no idea what he was talking about, but apologised. It was hard to look anywhere but directly into his eyes when they were sleeping side by side, but she supposed it was still rude of her, seamstress as she was.

She heard the Prince inhale deeply and turn his body the other way. He tossed and turned, struggling to get comfortable, while Mei tried to take up as little of the bed as possible, practically clinging to the edge. She could feel tears forming in her eyes and she pressed her lips together, wishing she was anywhere but here.

An hour passed and the bed had considerably cooled. Mei shivered, and no matter how she tried to stop her body, her teeth chattered. Her whole body was rigid and tense from trying to keep still, and she couldn’t sleep, her mind awake and buzzing.

“Come here,” a quiet voice said, and Mei turned her head. The prince was watching her, his face indescribable.

“My prince…?” she asked, confused.

“I can hear you shivering from here. Neither of us are going to get any sleep with you like that.”

Mei scooted across the bed a little, but the Prince simply tutted and tugged her properly into his arms. She gasped, and he covered her mouth in warning.

“Don’t worry,” he said softly. “I won’t do anything, on my honour.”

The seamstress hadn’t expected him to, but she was still shocked to be so flush against his body. She was sure to be killed if they were discovered like this.

“Now, sleep, Chen Mei,” the Prince told her, tucking her head under his chin, his arm tucked around her waist. She exhaled against his chest, which was covered in a cotton robe. She herself was in her sleeping robes, which were thinner than her everyday clothing.

After a few moments, the Prince’s breathing regulated and she relaxed. She was happy to just watch his face, free from troubles. Her eyes traced his lips, his cheekbones and his jaw. Eventually, the warmth of his body lulled her to sleep.

* * *

Waking was hard for the Prince. Very hard, considering Chen Mei was wrapped around his body. At some point during the night, her bare leg had slipped in-between his, and her hand was curled up against his chest. Her dark eyelashes fluttered against her cheek, the collar of her sleeping robes dipping dangerously low. Liang wanted nothing more than cover her body with his. He cursed his base desires and tried to calm his raging emotions. He spotted the red flash of an earring and lightly touched Mei's lobe. It was the Ladybug studs he had gifted her with when they first met. He wondered if, like his ring, they would now refuse to be removed.

As if sensing his gaze, Mei opened her eyes. She stared at him for a moment before gasping and backing away, slipping down from the bed and onto the floor.

“Good morning, your high…” Ting entered the room and tailed off, seeing the seamstress bowed on the floor.

“Ting, inform the morning guard that I will require my horse this morning,” Prince Liang said quickly. The servant immediately bowed and departed. The conservation from the guard post drifted into the room and they could hear Ting flirt with them, gently leading them away from the door as she asked for their help in moving a heavy table in the other part of the chamber so she could clean.

“Go quickly,” The Prince said, rising and pulling Mei to her feet.

“Forgive me,” she dipped her head, her eyes full of tears. She was certain the Prince was furious with her. Seeing this, he leaned down and kissed the top of her head.

“Don’t fall asleep in any room but your own,” Prince Liang said, squeezing her cheek. “And try and stay out of trouble, hmm?”

Mei blushed and nodded, before rushing out the room before she could be caught.

The Prince ran a hand over his face. So much for a proper scolding.

"Oh well, at least you didn't need to wait until the full moon to see her," Plagg teased, wriggling out from under his hiding place on the desk.

"Even that is too long a wait..." Liang replied, his voice gravelly.

"The horses are ready, your Highness," Ting informed him, her eyes quickly sweeping the room. She seemed relieved to see that Mei was gone.

"Don't put her in that danger again," the Prince told his servant quietly. Ting nodded quickly and bowed low.

If he couldn't transform as Black Cat, riding was the next best thing. A semblance of freedom.

 

* * *

 

 

Mei's heart was hammering as she returned to her room. She was unsure what had passed between her and the Prince, but he didn't seem as angry as she had feared. Ai interrupted her thoughts by grabbing her hand, and the seamstress blinked and looked at her friend.

"Did you hear?" the girl bubbled, clearly excited. "The potential brides be will arriving soon! And that means... new servants! Oh, I hope there are some good-looking ones, I'm so tired of these palace boys..."

"What are you talking about?" laughed Mei, as they made their way to the kitchen.

"You know, for the Prince," Ai explained. "Sorry, I keep forgetting you haven't been at the palace long. The Emperor has been trying to wed him off for ages now, and it's finally happening!"

Mei faltered, suddenly leaning on her friend for support.

"Are you okay?" Ai said, looking down at her feet. "Did your sandal snap?"

"I'm...fine..." Mei said, swallowing hard. "Just missed a step..."

Her heart was pulsing in her chest, and her hands felt clammy, but it wasn't from the near fall.

_Of course. The Prince has to marry a real Princess, after all..._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all had a lovely time over the festive period~


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chongzi: bug (it sounded cuter than the Ladybug translation!)  
> -Xiaojie: the suffix attached to an unmarried woman's name

While the other servants rejoiced in the arrival of their new guests (and subsequently, new love interests), Mei buried herself in embroidering the autumn robes for the Empress. It wouldn’t be long, she supposed, until she would be making wedding gowns for the Prince. She wallowed in pity with each stitch, realising she had to end her one-sided love with the man that would forever be out of her reach. Besides, Black Cat had shown her so much affection of late, and her heart was warming towards him. If only he was able to reveal his true identity.

Mei bit off the golden thread and finished her last leaf. The plum-coloured silk was beautiful, changing seductively in the light. The seamstress stretched her arms and felt her bones pop. She had been sewing since dawn, and she needed to move, and take some fresh air.

Mei left the robe in Hu Wenqian’s care, and slipped on her straw sandals. They were starting to fray; she would need new ones before winter. It was cloudy day, and there was a little wind. Mei buried her hands in her long sleeves and wandered through the gardens, glad to inhale the scent of the last flowers of the season. It was always sad to see the trees shedding their leaves, and the soil become barren.

For some reason, Mei was drawn to the flowers more than usual. She knelt, observing the chrysanthemum and osmanthus washing over her like a delicate perfume. She breathed it in, finding it calmed her. She wondered how Prince Liang was feeling about his upcoming engagement, and wished she could serve him calming tea as she had done before.

Sighing, Mei managed to pull herself away from the blossoms and began to return to the artisan quarters. She noted she was near the Peacock Palace, and since no-one was around, the seamstress thought she could visit the late Empress’ shrine, and pray for her son’s wedding.

She took a few flowers for an offering, and carefully stepped out of her straw sandals onto the wooden floor. She could already smell the sharp scent of sandalwood, and smiled. The Prince must have visited this morning already.

* * *

 

The palace felt so large and empty, and Mei crept in her cotton socks, scared of disturbing any restless spirits. Unlike the current Empress, Prince Liang’s mother seemed to have been modest: there was little in the way of jewels or silks. Instead, there were beautiful paintings on the walls, depicting scenes of nature: a white snow fox, and heron taking flight near a pond. The palace was mainly dark, with only a few dying tea-lights near the altar, and so the seamstress strained to see them properly.

Mei was so engrossed in the images that she didn’t notice the kneeling figure until she was on-top of him. She tipped backwards with a gasp, trying to right herself, flowers spilling from her hands onto the straw matting.

“Who dares invade this place?”

The figure slammed her against a wooden pillar, pressing the edge of a blade to her throat. Mei gasped, winded, trying to make out the features of the man in the darkness. He tilted her face to the light, and lowered the sword.

“Chen Mei?” he said, in disbelief, and the seamstress felt her heart drop. It was none other than the prince himself.

“Forgive me, your Highness,” Mei dipped her head, unable to kneel because the Prince was still holding her against the pillar. “I did not know anyone was here.”

The sword clanged to the ground, and the Prince cupped her face. “No, forgive me. I thought you were an assassin. Are you hurt?”

Mei swallowed and shook her head.

“But, what are you doing here?” the Prince asked, lightly checking her over. When he was satisfied she was simply shaken, he led her to a cushion to sit. The royal picked up his sword and sheathed it before joining her.

“Pardon my rudeness, your highness. I know I don’t belong in a place like this. I only wanted to pay my respects to the late Empress… and wish for blessings on your future marriage.”

The Prince’s eyes softened. “How kind of you, Chen Mei. At least one of us is looking forward to my wedding.”

The seamstress gathered the fallen flowers, clasping them to her chest.

“You do not wish to marry, your highness?”

The Prince sighed, running his hand through his hair, which was loose over his shoulders. “It is not that I do not wish to marry, Chen Mei. I long for a family of my own. It is simply that I do not wish to marry someone handpicked by the Empress herself.”

Mei pressed her lips together, unsure what to say. To reply would be treason, she was sure. Instead, she lay the flowers on the altar and kowtowed to the late Empress.

The Prince watched her silently, his hands on his knees. When Mei rose, he followed, and she bowed to the altar and backed away slowly.

“I prayed instead for your happiness, my Prince,” Mei explained, her eyes downcast.

The royal smiled and reached out to stroke her hair. “You are good, Chen Mei. I would be lucky to be gifted with a wife as thoughtful as you.”

The seamstress gasped and backed away from his touch, her face flushed. “I hope you are to wed someone much more beautiful and rich than I, your highness.”

The prince chuckled. “What use is beauty and wealth to me, Chen Mei? I would much rather have a wife who was devoted and kind. Oh, and it would be a bonus if she could cook!”

Mei’s heart beat fast as they left the palace together. She bowed quickly to him and returned to her work, not once looking behind her. The Prince watched her leave with a look of longing, before returning to his own chambers. He had to rest for a while, before the Empress summoned him to greet the potential brides.

* * *

Mei was distracted all day, until finally Hu Wenqian had enough of her mistakes and sent her home early. Disgraced, the seamstress returned her tools and went to bathe, hoping the hot water would calm her nerves. She could barely eat, and was silent at the dinner table, letting the chatter of the servants wash over her. She didn’t want to hear about the pretty daughters of the noblemen and lords that were descending on the castle.

Frustrated, Mei tossed and turned for a few hours before deciding to get up. It wasn’t the night of the full moon yet, but she asked Tikki if it was possible to release her powers. She wanted the explore the palace under the darkness of night, the way Black Cat was able to do.

The Ladybug God granted her wish, and Mei grinned as she was able to take flight across the curved rooftops. Her speed and agility was greatly increased in this form, and jumping from palace to palace was effortless. No wonder Black Cat had found it difficult to restrain himself! Mei had never felt such freedom before.

It wasn’t long before Mei was drawn to the Prince’s quarters. She didn’t expect to see him on such a cold night, but he was his room on the wooden balcony, gazing at the stars. His guard stood nearby, and she pondered the problem. Mei thought over the powers Tikki had explained to her, and remembered there was one that could summon items. Mei touched her earrings, and whispered: “Lucky charm!”

Something soft fell into her lap. It was a wooden whistle, the seamstress realised. Shrugging, she placed it to her lips and blew. The Prince immediately tilted his head, looking in her direction, but the guard seemed confused, and went to investigate inside the chamber.

Summoning her courage, Mei dropped down from the roof onto the wooden balcony, posed in a crouch. After spooking him earlier, she didn’t want him to think she was an assassin again. Upon spotting her, the Prince drew himself upright and watched her cautiously. Mei raised her hands, palms upwards, in a sign of peace.

“Please, I mean you no harm,” she said.

The Prince took a step towards her. “Who are you?” he asked, eyes running over her scarlet attire and armour. “Another evil spirit?”

Mei smiled. “No. I’m a good spirit, I promise. I’m here to offer you protection.”

“Protection?” the Prince raised an eyebrow, his lip quirking. “With all due respect, good spirit, I’m not sure how someone as small as you can protect me.”

“Oh?” Mei tilted her head. She observed the small flask that he had left on the terrace, yet untouched. “That wine has been poisoned.”

The Prince scoffed at this, but Mei soon silenced him, unhooking her yo-yo from her hip and firing it at the flask. She knocked it over, and it spilled over the wood, bubbling and eating through the planks. The royal took several steps back, covering his mouth.

“So that’s why I was drawn here,” Mei nodded. “I thought I could smell something unsavory. Well, it might not have killed you, but it certainly would have been unpleasant.”

The Prince was in front of her in an instant, gripping her shoulders. “Who was it? Please, tell me their name…”

The heroine considered, then shook her head. “I’m afraid it’s impossible to say, as it has passed too many hands. My advice, dear Prince, is to have someone close to your side, to prepare all your food and drink directly from the kitchen.”

“It shall be so,” the Prince agreed. He bowed, his cheeks flushed. “How can I repay you, sweet spirit?”

Mei smiled and reached out, touching his cheek. It was something she had never dared to do as a seamstress, but she felt so confident in this form. To her surprise, the Prince closed his eyes and leaned into her touch.

“The pleasure is mine. The gods are guiding me, and therefore everything is their will.”

The royal nodded. “I will give them my thanks, then. May I ask your name?”

Mei considered. “You may call me Chongzi.”

“Chongzi,” the Prince repeated, with a laugh. “I am to be wed soon. Would you grant me your blessing?”

“Of course,” Mei said, her voice soft. “Please close your eyes…”

The royal obeyed, hands clasped to his chest in prayer. Mei reached out and tilted his face, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. She whispered a blessing over him, and disappeared by the time he had opened his eyes. The guard returned, and found the Prince standing, staring at the night sky.

* * *

Liang was awestruck. Although he had witnessed Mei’s transformation during the monk’s attack, it was hard to believe the good spirit and the shy seamstress was the same woman.

Mei had always been kind to a fault, and was selfless in everything she did, even if it caused her pain. Chongzi seemed to be not only confident, but proud, and her presence was controlled. Liang had felt overwhelmed by her, wanting only to please her 

“Something strange is going on here,” Plagg said, in-between guzzling his slimy beansprouts. “There’s a connection between you and that girl. Something stronger than there was before, like an invisible thread.”

Liang laughed, tugging off his outdoor robes. “I didn’t class you as a romantic, Plagg."

The Cat God screwed up his face. “Yuck. I don’t mean that, though you’re clearly lovesick. No, I mean a spiritual connection. Like two halves of a whole…”

The Prince had no idea what the God was talking about, but he had a smile on his face as he curled up in bed. He would have to speak quietly to Ting in the morning, and make sure his meals and drink were collected by only her, directly from the kitchen. But even the attempt on his life couldn’t stop the happy glow in his heart, or the warmth from the good spirit’s kiss, still lingering on his forehead.

* * *

He was even in a good mood the next day as the Empress summoned him to view the next batch of potential brides. Liang had already sat through several dance recitals, tea ceremonies and musical concerts. Each lady was as lovely as the last, but none compared to his seamstress: his little _Chongzi_ who had visited him in the dead of night, and perched on his balcony like a beautiful and mystical fairy.

The Empress was strict with the women, quizzing them and scolding them for the smallest imperfection. Liang, on the other hand, did his best to smile and nod encouragingly. He did feel sorry for them: many had been sent far from home, some for honour, others for wealth. Some would have trained for such a position their whole lives, whereas others would have been forced by their parents. Whether they were daughters of lords or war heroes, none could steal his heart.

“Well?” The Empress asked him, after the end of another grueling day. “Isn’t there one that catches your eye?”

Liang cleared his throat. “They are all eye-catching, mother. I don’t know how I could possibly choose.”

“Hmm. You are too young to know what’s good enough for you, anyway,” the Empress said, dismissive as she looked over the scrolls. “Looks are one thing, but your wife must have the ability to reign over the harem one day.”

The Prince pursed his lips together. It went without saying that the Empress would be the one to rule over his wife.

* * *

 

After their evening meal that night, Mei’s parents asked her to join them in their room. The mood was serious, and the seamstress was already afraid. Was someone sick? Her parents worked long and hard hours in the kitchen, although they claimed to love what they did. Mei was already calculating her next pay, and how they could afford medicine.

“My daughter,” her father beamed at her and patted her hand. “You have already made us so proud since we arrived at the palace. And now, you bring us even more honour.”

Mei blinked, confused.

“My dear child,” her mother said, stroking her hair. “A court adviser has asked for your hand.”

The seamstress swallowed. She did not know of any court advisers…how could this be?

“You may have never spoken to him, but he has seen how diligently you work and is impressed. He is ambitious, daughter, and plans to rise high in the ranks of the courts. He would be able to provide for you well, when we are gone.”

“Mother, father,” Mei bowed her head. “You know I want for nothing. I do not know this man, but if it will please you, I will meet him.”

Although her heart broke, the seamstress knew it was the right thing to do. She could not live in her parents’ room forever, and she was of age to marry. If she could lighten the burden of her parents’ load, she would be grateful to do so.

* * *

The court adviser, Tang Xuan, met them the next day for tea in his chamber. Mei dressed as carefully as she could in a clean pink robe and green skirt, as she had no formal attire to speak of. Her mother had pinched her cheeks for colour, and decorated her twin twists with pink peonies from the garden.

Although Mei knew she was no match for the beauties currently visiting the palace, vying for the spot of the Prince’s wife, Tang Xuan seemed pleased with her appearance. He greeted her parents with a bow and bade them sit on the silk cushions around a low table. A servant poured them tea, which felt strange to Mei, as usually it was her role. The court adviser’s rooms were to the north side of the palace grounds; an area the seamstress didn’t know well. It was closer to the Emperor’s own palace, and even the thought was intimidating.

Tang Xuan was perfectly cordial to Mei’s parents, discussing the fantastic dishes they had prepared recently and what foods were coming into season. The seamstress barely opened her mouth, and kept her head low. She sipped her tea, and was startled when the court adviser finally addressed her.

“So, Chen-Xiaojie, what do you like to do in your free time? Apart from sewing, of course.”

The court adviser smiled politely at her, but for some reason his tone felt condescending.

“I like sketching,” she replied, “and poetry. I would like to study more, if possible.”

“How cute!” Tang Xuan laughed, slapping his knee. “I’m not sure a seamstress has much use for poetry, however. No matter, Chen-Xiaojie. Once you have babies, they will be the only ones you will need to sew for.”

Mei felt an angry flush rise to her face, but she bit her lip for the sake of her parents. She tried not to remember the wonderful evening she had spent with the Prince, and the gentle way he had teased her for her better handwriting.

* * *

“His chambers were beautiful, weren’t they, Mei?” her mother hummed, as she swept their small room. The seamstress was silent, watching her. It was true that the court adviser had grand living accommodations, much finer than theirs.

“But mother, even if I do marry him, only I will get to live there,” Mei said gently. “I wouldn’t see you as much.”

“Once you have children, I’m sure Tang Xuan would allow us to visit a lot!” her mother beamed. Mei could see she already had the future planned out as she sang a little song under her breath.

“He will go far, Mei,” her father said, counting their expenses for the month on the abacus. “You know we spent a lot for the move, but your mother and I have been saving for your dowry. Tang Xuan could help us rise above our station, from peasant once more.”

Mei nodded. She knew her father was still bitter about their loss of land and titles, after the war. Although the seamstress had known no differently, her grandfather had in fact been a landowner, and the family had been fairly well-off. But the fighting had caused many young men to die, and farms had been ransacked and damaged. As a result, her father’s family had fallen on hard times.

“What do you think, Mei?” Her mother asked, gripping her hands. “Can we agree?”

Although her heart protested, the seamstress gave her consent.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A marriage-centric chapter! Please remember this is a historical story, and even today, marriage in a massive issue in Chinese/Asian culture ^^


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: DARK CHAPTER AHEAD~
> 
> Mao-mi: Kitty

As a court adviser, Tang Xuan travelled often, and so wedding preparations were made quickly, so they could be married before his next departure. It was a simple ceremony, held at one of the smaller temples in the palace. Only her parents and Ai, Mingzu, and Daiyu attended. Mei found it strange than none of her new husband’s family arrived, but he explained sadly that his parents had already passed away, and the rest of his family lived too far to travel.

“We can visit them, in the New Year,” he promised.

The monk who had once warned Mei about Black Cat presided over the wedding, and the seamstress wished they were near his altar now, not only to provide comfort, but to perhaps cause a distraction. Although it warmed her to see her parents so happy, Mei felt very cold inside, as if the blood in her veins had starting freezing as soon as she agreed to the wedding.

There was no money for silk, so Mei wore her mother’s wedding robes, which were fine, even if a little worn. The seamstress was able to take in the red fabric and fix some of the gold detailing which had faded with use.

Mingzu helped her with her hair: piling it onto her head into an elaborate bun. Mei’s hair wasn’t long enough for fancy loops, but they decorated it with golden pins, borrowed from Hu Wenqian. Her friends had been shocked by the sudden marriage, and asked Mei if she loved her future husband, but she simply smiled.

Her mother painted two dots of blush on her cheeks and rouged her lips. When Mei looked into the mirror, she wanted to cry, and it wasn’t from happiness.

“Beautiful,” Tang Xuan had greeted her, when she arrived at the temple. There was no warmth to his words. He had trimmed his moustache but otherwise, had made no other effort for the ceremony, still in his black and silver court robes. He presented Mei with a golden hairpin comprised of a dangling butterfly, and she lowered her head so he could fix it in her hair. The pin scraped her scalp and she tried not to wince.

The ceremony was over very quickly, the monk carefully taking them through the meaning of being man and wife. Mei was left in no doubt that she was leaving her current life behind: everything she did was now for her husband, and for the purpose of having children.

 

* * *

 

Meanwhile in the royal court, Prince Liang sat with the Empress as she assessed his potential brides. She complained if they were too plain, or too beautiful; too shy, or too out-spoken; not connected enough, or too ambitious.

“A beautiful wife will be vain and catch other eyes in the court,” the Empress lectured him, in-between dance recitals. “If she has no connections, she is of no value to you, but if she is too powerful, she will seek to betray you.”

They were the kindness words the Empress has ever spoken to him, yet Prince Liang could allow his heart to be moved. The only potential bride that had made him smile so far had been Jun-Ling, the youngest of the girls gathered. She was supposedly twelve years old, but the Prince had his doubts. She was tiny and slender, her long hair piled into two looped buns, decorated with pink and white flowers. Jun-ling had a round face, and two bright eyes like buttons. The other women pretended to fawn over her, and she had a beautiful singing voice. Perhaps it was the rose blush silk that she was dressed in, but Liang fantasied that a union between himself and Mei would be blessed with such an adorable child.

At the lunch time meal that day, Jun-Ling shyly approached and asked if she could sit beside the Prince. The Empress, seeing the rage this inspired in the other ladies, allowed the request, and the child beamed with joy, her eyes fixated to the Prince’s face for the whole meal.

Liang didn’t have much experience with children, having no siblings or even young cousins, but Jun-Ling was easy to talk to (or rather, she talked, and he listened). She delighted in everything: the gardens of the palace, the stories about the cat spirit, the fresh fruit on the table, the ornaments in the other ladies’ hair. Her positive and carefree attitude reminded him of Mei, and the Prince warmed to her, before remembering why she was here. It disgusted him that this young child could be presented as a potential bride to someone almost ten years her senior. It was clear the child saw everything as a game: her chance to be a princess, without understanding what she was sacrificing.

The jealousy of the other women didn’t escape the Prince’s sight. Later that day when Jun-Ling, clearly exhausted by the events of the day, broke down crying in the middle of the court room, the royal scooped her up in his arms and offered to take her on a tour of the gardens. The potential brides gossiped and complained among themselves. Why was the Prince giving that little brat so much attention?

“Why do you want to become a princess, Jun-Ling?” Prince Laing asked, as they walked through the gardens. He had carried her until her sobs had ceased, and now she was content to walk, holding his hand.

“Because I want to be like those pretty ladies,” the child explained, her eyes wide. “And I want to have my own palace, and servants, and never be hungry again.”

Liang smiled, and knelt down next to her. “If we marry, would you be loyal to me? And not listen to the Empress, or anyone else?”

“Of course,” Jun-Ling insisted, sticking her chest out proudly. “You are the one I love, Prince Liang.”

He laughed, and they resumed their walking. Maybe, just maybe, he could marry this child in name only. He could treat her like a daughter, and spoil her, and keep his parents happy. Of course, he would have no interest in touching her as a husband, and there would be the issue of an heir. But the Empress was still young and healthy, and his father may yet have more children. Perhaps he would not need to be next in line for the throne.

 

* * *

 

In order to keep the peace, for the next meal Prince Liang sat with two other potential brides, one at either side of him. Jun-Ling was upset, but he had bribed her with a pretty hair ornament, and she wore it proudly at the evening meal. The two women tried to engage him in conversation, but the Prince only had eyes for Jun-Ling. She could be a companion to him, better than these shameless foxes who were battling for a place in his bed. He could trust a child better than any adult, and once she was old enough, he could release her. He would ensure she would be able to marry for love.

Yet as the meal went on, reality set in. He was being selfish in this scheme, he knew. Why give the child false hope, and make her parents believe she would be Empress some day? Besides, there would be pressure to have children, and she would be put through hell from the Empress. Best to leave alone, and declare none of these potential brides to his taste.

Decided, the Prince dabbed at his mouth. He looked up to smile at Jun-Ling, only to see her cover her mouth and cough. The soup was spicy and it seemed to have caught in her throat. The child choked, and the woman next to her offered water. Another tried to pat her back, and when Jun-Ling continued to struggle, Liang sensed something was terribly wrong.

“Call the doctor!” he instructed a nearby servant. The Empress scowled, clearly unhappy the meal had been interrupted. The Prince rushed to Jun-Ling’s side. Her skin was coming out in hives and she was clutching her throat.

“Is she allergic to anything?” he asked the nearby women, but they did not know.

By the time the doctor had arrived, it was too late.

 

* * *

 

 

Tang Xuan took his bride back to his rooms, which had been freshly cleaned with new straw mats and silk bedding. An intense musk hung in the air, and Mei coughed, uncomfortable. Her face felt heavy with make-up and the golden pin dug into her scalp. She allowed her husband to lead her to bed. The servants dimmed the lanterns and slid shut the doors. Mei felt like she was suffocating, her fingers clenching in the bedsheets.

“So lovely,” Tang Xuan murmured, observing her. He tugged off her sash and opened her gown without preamble, peeling back her undergarments. Mei could feel her body shaking, although she tried to be brave. She tried to think of anything else, of a happier place, as her husband groped her breast and shed his garments.

The smell of him made her feel ill, the sourness of sweat and bitter tang of opium. They had exchanged several cups of rice wine with her family and she had hoped it would relax her, but instead every one of her senses seemed heightened. She opened her mouth to ask him to be slow, but it was too late. Her husband roughly took her, groaning in ecstasy while Mei bit her lip, tears trickling down her face. Every thrust felt like being stabbed, and the seamstress didn’t even know she was whimpering until her husband covered her mouth and ordered her to be quiet. Her nails pierced the flesh of her palms as Tang Xuan thrusted into her again and again.

Mei felt herself dissociate from her body, as if she was curled in the corner of the room, not involved with the violation. At last, her husband pulled out and spurted his seed across her stomach.

“I don’t want you getting fat with children just yet,” he told her, before standing to dress and abruptly leaving the room without a farewell. The seamstress lay in shock, her whole body throbbing with pain. There was a bucket nearby with hot water that the servants had prepared for her, and Mei gladly soaked a cloth and cleaned the stickiness from her body. There was blood between her legs, her thighs smeared with it, and the silk beneath her was stained. The seamstress cleaned herself the best she could, before changing into sleeping robes. She took another cloth and cleaned off her makeup, the white powder streaked with her tears. With relief, she took out the hairpin and undid the elaborate hairstyle.

Mei sat in the cold, dark room and felt empty. Was this to be her life now, she wondered? To be used and discarded by her husband, without so much as an affectionate touch or word? Her only consolidation was that he was leaving tomorrow for his trip. Mei supposed she would be the type of wife to wait at home, dreading his return.

 

* * *

 

Jun-Ling’s parents came to collect her body, and Prince Liang bowed to them, asking forgiveness. Someone had discovered she was allergic to shellfish, and had snuck crab into the soup. It was no doubt done out of jealousy, but the royal couldn’t rule out the Empress, either. It seemed like her type of trick. Either way, Liang felt guilty, and he promised to reimburse the family for their loss: not that it would bring back their daughter. Jun-Ling’s parents left the palace, intending to hold her funeral back in their town.

Liang was glad it was the night of the new moon, because he desperately needed to see Mei after the events of late. He transformed into Black Cat as soon as he was able to, and waited at the bell tower. He waited, and waited, and waited, but still his little _Chongzi_ was nowhere to be seen. Worried, Black Cat returned to the palace and began to search the grounds. He hadn’t seen her for the last few days, and panic began to settle in his chest.

She wasn’t at the bathhouse, or the kitchens, or near the altar. Black Cat tried all the usual spots, then began to fan out wider, searching for her scent. There were so many people in the palace, and so many overwhelming smells, it was not easy to track the seamstress. Just as he had been close to giving up, he spotted her, sitting on a wooden porch, attached to rooms that were not her own. They were near the Emperor’s own palace, which meant the people living in this area were his trusted officials. At first, Black Cat thought Mei was working, covering for a servant as she had done before, but as he drew closer he saw she was wearing her sleeping robes, and her hair was loose and wavy across her shoulders.

He dropped down in front of her, and Mei scrambled back, covering her mouth with fright. She seemed more on edge than usual, and her usually golden skin was grey.

“Gongzhu?” Black Cat asked, stepping forward, the bell in his hair tinkling. “Are you well? What are you doing here?”

Mei looked up at him, but was unable to reply. Her body seemed folded into herself, and she looked down at her feet. Black Cat knelt beside her, and placed a hand on her shoulder. She jumped, scooting back from his touch. He frowned and tried again.

“We were supposed to meet at the bell tower two hours ago. Did you forget?”

Mei blinked at him, then looked at the new moon, as if seeing it for the first time.

“Sorry,” she bowed her head.

“Mei…” Black Cat begged. “You’re scaring me. What’s wrong?”

The seamstress swallowed, and tears began to leak from her eyes. Concerned, the cursed spirit cupped her cheeks. She was unable to meet his gaze.

“I…” Mei tried, shuddering. She inhaled, and Black Cat smoothed his fingers across her face, wiping away the tears.

“Take your time,” he encouraged.

“I…married today,” the seamstress finally said, before bursting into fresh sobs.

 

* * *

 

Black Cat didn’t understand, but he held the seamstress until she calmed. He stroked her hair, and dabbed at her face with his sleeve. When her breathing regulated, he asked: “How did this happen so quickly?”

“He asked my parents,” Mei explained, pressing her nose with a handkerchief. Black Cat noticed it as the one he had gifted her, and was glad she still carried it. “They were delighted, since his status is so above mine. I couldn’t disappoint them…”

Black Cat sighed. Why were parents so adamant that they knew best, when they only served to hurt their children?

“You have to tell them how you feel,” Black Cat said gently. “If you don’t love this man, and he makes you unhappy…”

“It’s too late,” Mei told him, her lips pressing together. “We already…consummated the marriage.”

Black Cat’s mouth dropped open in shock. His hand paused, resting on top of her head. “Then…the reason why you were crying…?”

Mei nodded. “I knew it would hurt…but I was so frightened. He was…rougher than I had expected.”

The cursed spirit stood up suddenly, and there was green fire spitting from the tips of his claws.

“Black Cat, no,” she said urgently, standing up and gripping his arm. She winced at the sudden movement, and doubled over in pain.

“Mei?” Black Cat immediately called off his power and supported her by the elbow. The seamstress was panting, and spots of red had begun to appear on her white sleeping robes.

“That bastard,” the cursed spirit spat, before scooping her up.

“I can’t leave,” Mei protested, her fingertips patting the front of his armor. “I’ll get in deep trouble if the servants see I’ve disappeared.”

“The evil spirit is stealing you for an hour,” Black Cat smirked, “your husband shouldn’t have left you unattended on your wedding night. He knows the rumours. I feast on beautiful maidens, remember?”

Mei blushed and Black Cat chuckled, taking off into the night of no stars.

 

* * *

 

He had acquired an abandoned hut, outside the palace walls and near the city’s sprawling river. Prince Liang had hired a local old lady to clean the hut and ensure it was stocked with clean bedding, spare clothes, food and medicine. Luckily, no-one outside the palace knew what he looked like, so he had been able to pass as a traveler. Since the monks had been pestering him, it was good to have a nearby hideout.

He wore the key around his neck, and Black Cat instructed Mei to unlock the door while he held her. She was shocked by the neat hut, furnished with the essentials.

“Is this your real home?” she asked, as he placed her down on the bedding.

“Something like that,” Black Cat smiled. He stoked the fire and put the cast iron pot on to boil. Then he opened the lacquer box filled with herbs and medicine, and handed Mei the small wrap of paper.

“Take this. It’ll help with the pain.”

Mei looked at him, and saw his bright green eyes were sincere. She tipped the powder onto her tongue and swallowed with a shudder. Black Cat passed her ginger tea to cleanse her mouth and calm her stomach.

“Thank you,” Mei said, accepting the bowl gratefully. Her body was still cold, and she huddled closer to the fire. Black Cat sat next to her and wrapped a blanket around their shoulders.

“Can I kill him?” the cursed spirit asked honestly, and Mei laughed bitterly into her tea.

“I don’t think so, _mao-mi_ ,” she said, fondly patting his head. “I would be the one they would suspect guilty. Also, my parents would be shamed by such an incident.”

“I didn’t think of that,” Black Cat sighed. “Hopefully he will die in battle, then.”

The seamstress remained silent, the firelight reflecting on her dark eyes. It would suit her if the court adviser never returned, but she expected men with cushy jobs like his didn’t end up in danger much.

“Is it still painful?” Black Cat asked. His expression was sad, and it warmed Mei’s heart that he was so concerned about her.

“The medicine helped,” Mei told him. “But it feels like something has…torn. There’s not supposed to be so much blood, I’m sure.”

Black Cat looked down at her, aghast, and saw that the dark red stain had spread.

“I’ll go and fetch more water,” he said, his hands clenched. “There’s spare robes here…they will be too big, but they will be more comfortable that damp clothing.”

Mei thanked him, and waited until he had left before stripping. There was a stinging pain between her legs, and she used some bandages from the lacquer box and leftover water from the pot to clean herself again. The hot water helped, and she longed for a bath, but she couldn’t visit the palace one in this state.

 

* * *

 

Black Cat was shaking with anger as he fetched water from the well. First Jun-Ling, and now Mei: why were women used so easily by their families for gain? He knew Mei’s parents probably had her best interests at heart, but it was hard to see that with Mei in such a mess.

The cursed spirit looked down at the bottom of well, seeing the unending darkness. His bloodlust rose, and he fantasised wrapping his fingers around the court adviser’s throat, and throwing his broken body into this very well. Such a death would be too kind, Black Cat mused, as he returned to the hut. He knocked on the door, and Mei’s soft voice told him to enter. He was taken aback by how she looked in the cotton navy robes: although made for men, she had used the sash from her own clothing to ensure the fabric would be modest and not gape too much. Black Cat scolded himself and poured the water into the kettle.

He noted the bloodied bandages in the fire but decided not to mention them. Mei huddled under the blanket again and he scooted next to her, laying his head on hers. The seamstress moved closer to him, so their bodies were flush against each other.

“Thank you, Black Cat, for everything…” she said. He took her hand in his and raised it to his lips.

 

As promised, he returned Mei within the hour. Black Cat found it difficult to part from her, and he leaned down, stroking her face, burning to kiss her even as another man’s wife.

“Lie down and sleep well,” he told her. “It will still hurt tomorrow, so let the servants wait on you, and ask them to draw you a bath. I’m sure they’ll have one for rooms like this.”

Mei nodded, a tear trapped on her lash.

“I will visit soon,” he promised, kissing the top of her head. “Be strong until then, my gongzhu.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gentle reminder this is a historical story and yes, child brides were acceptable in Ancient China.
> 
> There's a lot in the chapter and I would call this the *turning point* moment in the plot ^^
> 
> Yay, this fic is one year old~


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been thinking about this chapter for so long, but it's been a struggle to find the time to write! Enjoy ^^

When the servants woke her the next morning, Mei rolled over and groaned. Her whole body ached, as if she had taken a tumble from the roof of the temple. Her stomach cramped with anxiety, and there was still a sharp pain between her legs. Although she had bathed the night before, she still felt unclean, as if there was residue coating her skin.

“We must work quickly,” the servants clucked around her, pulling back her bedding. “The master is leaving in an hour, and you must join him for breakfast.”

The last person Mei wished to see was her husband. The tradition in her village was for the wife to wake and prepare the first meal of the marriage, but the seamstress was glad she had been saved from such a task. She stood limp as the servants dressed her and powdered her face, though her sallow skin had already lost most of its colour. Now she was married, her twin twists were no longer appropriate. Her hair was piled into another elaborate bun and pinned with jewels and flowers.

Mei allowed the servants to lead her to breakfast. Her husband wasn’t waiting for her (of course, she should be the first to arrive, and check everything was in order). The seamstress fidgeted as she waited on his arrival, unable to even contemplate eating despite the lavish spread. Mei’s heart ached, as no doubt her parents had a hand in the meal, and had prepared in with pride, thinking of their married daughter.

Tang Xuan finally arrived, and it was with difficulty that Mei rose to greet him. She winced as she leaned over to pour his tea. Her husband regarded her readily.

“You are to keep everything running smoothly while I am gone. The rooms must be prepared for winter, so I will send you a monthly allowance, to buy winter clothing and more fuel. You may wish to sew for yourself, but you are forbidden from palace work. You are my wife now, and you shall act as such.”

Mei bit her lip. A long winter of boredom stretched out before her. From a young age, she had been a seamstress. What was she now? Stripped of such identity, was she merely a wife?

“You may of course visit your parents, but I don’t want any servants here that are not our own. Is that clear?”

Mei blinked. “How long will your journey take?”

Tang Xuan sipped his tea. “How long is a tiger’s roar? One cannot know until it begins.”

Mei felt her shoulders droop as she watched her husband leave on his horse with his men. At least she would be alone now. She would have time to recover, until the next intrusion. Mei returned to her rooms and stripped herself of the makeup and trinkets. She returned to bed, and stayed there for three days, ignoring all pleas from her servants to eat, drink or wash.

 

* * *

 

Meanwhile, across the palace in the royal quarters, Prince Liang was receiving a messenger.

“It is as you suspected, your Highness,” Xian Pu reported. She dressed in non-descript black robes and wore her hair plainly. “Tang Xuan has married many women across the mainland. Many of these wives have not seen him in years, and some have even borne him children.”

“That fiend!” the Prince hissed, thumping his hand down on his desk. “I knew there was something suspicious about the quickness of the marriage.”

Xian Pu bowed, and presented the scrolls of evidence that she had painstakingly collected. “It is true that he has no family of his own: he was exiled several years ago. I’m afraid he is held accountable to no one.”

“We’ll soon see about that,” the Prince grimaced. He pulled a bag of coins from his robes, and handed it to the messenger. “You have done good work, Xian Pu. I need you to stay on a while longer. I will call you as witness to this case.”

“My Lord,” Xian Pu bowed, her fist against her palm.

 

* * *

 

“Mistress, please get up,” the servant begged, shaking Mei’s shoulder. “You will waste away at his rate! What if you are already with child?”

“I’m not,” Mei sighed, curling up. “My husband took care not to spill his seed inside me.”

The servant winced, and tried again. “Please, mistress. Don’t you want to visit your parents? They have sent notes. The weather is beautiful outside!”

Mei shivered. Could anything ever be beautiful again? She tried to remember Black Cat’s words, and the warmth he had given her. But even that memory was tainted by her pain and the trauma of her wedding night.

“Mistress!” her other servant entered the room, panting. “You have been summoned by his Highness, Prince Liang!”

Mei swallowed and leaned closer to the pillow. She couldn’t see the Prince like this. She was too ashamed.

 

* * *

 

Ting coughed and announced her presence meekly as the Prince was rapt in the scrolls.

“Mei has said she is too sick to answer your summons, your Highness. She begs for forgiveness.”

Prince Liang glanced up from the scroll and frowned. “Please reply and tell her if she is so sick, I will visit her personally. If not, I beg she joins myself and her parents in the court room this afternoon. Tell her it is with regards to her husband.”

Ting bowed and left. She had spoken to the others, and they were seriously concerned about Mei. But Ting knew, if there was one thing that could rouse the seamstress’ spirit, it was the Prince.

 

* * *

 

 

“I guess I shall have to go, then,” Mei said, slowly getting up from her pallet. “It wouldn’t do to inconvenience the Prince.”

 _Perhaps my husband is already dead?_ Mei thought, chiding herself for her wickedness, but at the same time, a hope flickered in her heart. Even the hot bath couldn’t rid her body of tremors. Although the weather was still mild, Mei felt like she was formed of cold glass. She no longer had her seamstress attire, and instead had to wear clothing that her husband had prepared for her. The neckline was far too low, and Mei gritted her teeth as the servants dressed her. The skirt was a soft lilac, and the blouse was cream with lavender flowers. Mei wore a fur stole round her neck to hide her non-existent cleavage, and allowed the servants to pile her hair up with pearl clasps. The style was far too old for her tastes, but she supposed her husband wanted her to dress like a wife.

“Mei!” her parents were waiting outside the court room for her. “We were so worried! Were you terribly sick?” her mother asked.

“You look pale, my gem,” her father added. “What ails you?”

Mei greeted them with a bow. “We must not keep the Prince waiting.”

She noticed her parents were hurt from her deflection, but it was all Mei could do from bursting into tears. Prince Liang was sitting on the golden throne, and a figure dressed in black stood beside him. Mei thought she looked like an assassin, and her heart dropped. She feared for Black Cat, and hoped he wasn’t involved. A young man sat at a desk near the Prince’s feet, and from his brush and ink Mei guessed he was a scribe.

“Chen… ah, I mean, Tang Mei,” The Prince bit out, clearly unpleased about something. “Please be seated. Tang Mei’s parents, please also sit.”

They all bowed, and knelt on the cushions provided. Ting was nearby and had poured them green tea already, and laid out sweets to accompany them. Although they were beautiful cakes, in the shape of pastel flowers, Mei couldn’t bring herself to touch them.

The Prince lingered on her face, before clearing his throat. “Let me introduce Xian Pu, a messenger I hired for a mission recently. While on her travels, Xian Pu came across something very interesting…”

The figure was female, Mei realised with surprise. She didn’t know that women could take on such tasks.

The messenger carefully picked her way down the steps from the throne while holding several scrolls. She knelt before Mei’s parents and bowed, before presenting them on a lacquer tray.

“These scrolls contain evidence about several illegal marriages,” The prince announced, and the scribe beside him began recording the conversation. “It is with a heavy heart I tell you… they are Tang Xuan’s marriages.”

Mei’s mother cried out, and her father’s fists clenched on his knees.

“Your Highness, what do you mean?”

“Tang Mei’s father,” Prince Liang replied gravely. “These scrolls document the fraudulent marriages that your son-in-law has conducted across the land. To put it plainly, he is a con man, a trickster. As soon as I discovered it, I called you here.”

Mei swallowed and stared intently at the petals on the tea cakes. It was worse than she could have imagined. Her was ruin was now complete.

“I know this is hard to take in,” The Prince said gently. “But please believe me, Tang Xuan will be held accountable. We have taken pains to inform the wives that we know of, and notices will be placed in major cities. Moreover, he will lose his current titles and land, and will be banished from the palace.”

Mei swallowed a sob, feeling her heart tear in two. On one hand, she was glad to never see her husband’s face again. On the other, she was now, by association, a shamed woman.

“Of course, your daughter was completely innocent in this case,” The Prince told her parents, and Mei could hear the scribe writing furiously. “She will return to being Chen Mei as of this day, and will return to your family. I have spoken to Hu Wenqian and she would be more then delighted to have her seamstress back.”

Finally, the dam broke and Mei burst into tears. Her parents had been stunned into silence, and Mei couldn’t stop crying: happiness, anger, grief and relief flowed from her with each drop. Her ordeal was over, and the Prince had saved her from a fate worse than death.

“Thank you, Your Highness,” her father finally managed to speak. “We cannot thank you enough for protecting our daughter, and informing us about this awful crime.”

Mei felt her parents bow beside her, and she lowered her head while trying to calm herself. Her head was throbbing hard and she thought she may faint.

* * *

 

“No further word of this matter will leave this room,” the Prince promised them. “We shall tell others that Tang Xuan passed away from sickness. Dying in battle, we can agree, is too noble a death.”

“Thank you, your Highness,” Mei’s mother exclaimed. “We are forever in your debt!”

“Let us speak of it no more,” Prince Liang replied. “Take care of your daughter, and remember your debt when the talk of marriage arises. Leave the matter in my hands, and I will ensure she makes a good match, with someone honourable and trusting. For now, let her rest.”

“Your Highness,” the Chen family bowed again, and Mei remained on the floor, her sleeves shielding her face.

“I would have a moment with your daughter,” Prince Liang requested. “Please leave us, for now.”

Mei’s mother and father exchanged a glance, but nodded and left the room, led by Ting.

“Go and see it is done as we have promised,” the Prince said to Xian Pu and the scribe, and they also bowed and left him. Only Liang and the seamstress remained in the room, though she was unaware as she continued to cover her face.

“Chen Mei,” the Prince reveled in her true name, glad that she was no longer associated with the bastard that had hurt her. “Are you in pain? Shall I send for the doctor?”

She sounded hysterical, even worse than when Black Cat had stumbled across her. When the seamstress didn’t reply or lift her head, Liang stood up and made his way down the steps. He knelt in front of her, and stroked her hair.

“You are safe now, Mei,” he whispered softly. “Remember, I asked you to be my friend, all those months ago? I’m sorry I couldn’t help you sooner.”

Mei stilled, and slowly sat up. Her face was puffy and pink, and tears still leaked down her cheeks.

“Your Highness…” she croaked, taking out his handkerchief from her silk belt and dabbing at her nose.

“You have been through quite the ordeal, Chen Mei,” he said fondly, patting her shoulder. “You are stronger than most soldiers I know.”

“Not really,” Mei said, her eyes downcast. “I couldn’t fight my parents… and I was helpless against him.”

“Some battles have to be lost, to be won,” Prince Liang told her. “Your parents would have been pained had you refused the marriage. You were just being a dutiable daughter. I know how difficult it can be, to obey when your heart tells you to do the very opposite.”

“Your Highness…” the seamstress hiccupped. “You have already done so much for me… but I have one more request.”

“Say it,” Prince Liang beamed, touching her hand. “I’ll do anything in my power to help my friend.”

Mei looked up at him, and a tear caught on her lower lash. “Please. Please don’t marry me to someone else. I never want to go through that ever again.”

“Oh, Mei…” the Prince’s voice broke, and he reached forward, holding her in his arms. She shuddered, clutching the front of his robes, inhaling his familiar sandalwood scent. Why did she feel so safe and warm with him? She should be terrified of the Prince, especially after everything that had happened with the Empress, but there was nowhere else she wanted to be right now.

“I promise,” Liang muttered against her hair, pressing a kiss to her forehead. When she trembled at his touch, he quickly released her and stood back.

“Forgive me,” he said quickly, his face flushing. “I just… care about you a lot, Mei. But if I overstep the mark, please just tell me, or push me away.”

Mei giggled, the first time in weeks. “I would never do that, Your Highness. I could not.”

Liang swallowed, trapped in place by her adoring gaze. He wanted nothing more than to scoop her up and press his lips against hers, but he pulled himself together.

“I will have Ting fetch your things, so you do not have to return to those quarters,” the Prince said, wrenching himself away from her eyes. “Please, go and rest with your parents.”

Mei dipped her head to the floor, and then left the room. As soon as the door slid shut, Liang fell to his knees, his hands covering his eyes.

“So dramatic,” Plagg observed. “So, what are we going to do about her husband?”

“No longer her husband,” Liang bit out.

“Whatever, these human customs are so strange,” the black cat sighed. “You should just mark her and get it over with.”

“We’re not animals, Plagg,” Liang scolded him, loosening his collar. The very talk of such things was making him flustered.

“So, that man,” Plagg prompted him, green eyes glinting. “Don’t tell me you’re going to let him… live?”

Liang chuckled, and touched the sword belt at his hip. “Of course not. He made Mei bleed. We should at least return the favour.”

 


	10. Chapter 10

“Father,” Prince Liang bowed to the Emperor. “I present the scrolls of evidence, regarding the illegal marriages of Tang Xuan. I beg of you, allow me to take some soldiers and bring him to justice, for mocking our customs and performing illegal unions while bearing your colours.”

“You have done well, my son,” the Emperor sucked on his pipe, as a servant unfolded a scroll for him. “We must flush out vermin like Tang Xuan. But this matter is beneath you. Send one of your men on your behalf.”

“Please, father,” the Prince implored. “I wasn’t able to avenge Jung-Li, and she died while under my protection at the palace. At least allow me to damn this villain by my own hand.”

“It’s unusual to see you so passionate,” the Emperor smirked. “It wouldn’t have anything to do with that little seamstress you have taken under your wing? The one you stopped from receiving punishment?”

Prince Liang felt his face flush hot, and he bowed to the floor. “It is nothing to do with her, father.”

The Emperor chuckled, and pulled on his pipe. “I remember well the frustrations at your age, my son. That is why the sooner we marry you, the better. But if you wish, I could give the seamstress to you, to keep you occupied.”

Liang choked, his breath ragged against the straw floor. The mere thought of Mei belonging to him was enough for desire to course through his veins, molten and heady. Too often he replayed her visit to his bed, and fantasied what may have been. He would just have to say the word, he knew, and his father would bring Mei to him.

But she would not be free: she would be another type of slave, to pleasure him because it was her duty, not her wish. And Liang wanted nothing of the kind: he wanted Mei for his own, but only if she willingly came to him. He wanted to be her equal.

“I just wish to bring Tang Xuan to justice, for making a mockery of you, father,” the Prince replied. “We must make an example of those who use corrupt means to further their position.”

“Very well,” the Emperor agreed. “Bring my seal. You shall depart after our meal.”

 

* * *

 

 

Hu Wenqian observed the bolt of cloth as Mei twisted her fingers behind her back.

“Speak child, I’m not a mind-reader,” the head seamstress told her. 

“I was wondering…” Mei began, wetting her lips. “I feel too old to be sharing a room with my parents. Is there any space in the artisan quarters? Even a cupboard would do. I’m small, so I don’t need much…”

Hu Wenqian crossed her arms and regarded the young woman. “Yes, I believe there is a small room free. Only enough for a pallet, but if you need privacy, it’s yours. The rent will be deducted from your wages.”

“Thank you,” Mei bowed. She needed time apart from her parents, and her friends. She wasn’t ready to admit to them yet that her marriage was a failure, that her husband had been a philanderer. Mei was happy with any space, however small, to sit and do her work. It allowed her to talk with Tikki, and the little god listened to all the woes of the seamstress, and slowly she began to heal.

 

* * *

 

Prince Liang took a selection of soldiers that he knew well from training, and Xian Pu. They took the finest black and grey horses from the stables and a few days’ worth of supplies.

“Tang Xuan was last spotted in Luoyang province, according to my sources,” Xian Pu informed the Prince. She had a trained hawk which she used to convey messages back and forth with her other comrades.

“Very well,” the Prince said. They had dressed as commoners so they could blend in, and Liang relished the freedom. It was similar to being Black Cat, a different guise that allowed him to act a certain way, though all those who travelled with him still treated him as a royal.

It took two days to reach Luoyang, and Xian Pu had arranged to meet an informant in a local teahouse. Meanwhile, the Prince and the servants settled the horses in a nearby inn. Likely to draw attention due to their breed, they had been sure to cover their flanks in mud, and kept their hair uncombed.

“Forgive me, Wuzhui,” Liang said, petting his horse. “I’ll make sure to get you extra oats.”

His horse snorted and scuffed the dirty straw beneath his hooves, clearly unimpressed.

“Take care of them,” Liang tipped the stable boy, who bowed and accepted the coin with glee.

 

* * *

 

“He is close,” Xian Pu confided to the Prince that night, upon her return. “He is currently involved in some illegal gambling in a brothel nearby.”

Liang clenched the table, his heart stabbing in pain. He had assumed Tang Xuan had favoured virgins, but if he had in fact been sleeping around in brothels too, Mei’s life could be in danger.

Cursing, the Prince scribbled a message to the only doctor in the palace he trusted.

“Send this back home,” he said to Xian Pu, dripping hot wax onto the parchment from the candle, and pressing his ring into it to seal it shut. “Then, take me to this brothel.”

Not wanting to raise alarm, Liang positioned his soldiers outside, who were dressed as common merchants. He followed Xian Pu into the brothel, putting his life on the line for this assassin whom he barely knew, based on her backstory. Her life had been also poisoned by Tang Xuan. She came from a well-off family in a fishing village, and her sister had wed the court adviser, with promises to be taken to a life of luxury in the palace. But he had fled only a few days later, taking most of the family wealth, and leaving Xian Pu’s sister to die in childbirth.

“Ready, your highness?” the assassin whispered, drawing her blades. Liang nodded, unsheathing his own sword. He would allow Xian Pu the first blow. But he was determined to deliver the death strike.

“Fiend!” she wrenched back the door, and ran into the room, giving the occupants little time to react. There were three other men, and one lady serving them, but she screamed and backed away when they entered.

Xian Pu was immediately caught in a tussle with the man nearby the door, so Liang moved further into the room, blocking any escape.

“Prince Liang?” Tang Xuan coughed, dropping his cup. He stumbled to his feet, the others moving to protect him, but the Prince had no mercy, slicing through them with ease. The servant screamed louder and more men poured into the room.

Xian Pu was holding her own, using two short swords to effectively disarm whoever was near her. In the fighting, the candles had been knocked over and the room was in semi-darkness, so Liang took the opportunity to transform. He found Tang Xuan in the darkness and pinned him to a wall as he tried to escape.

“It was you!” the court adviser choked, under the crushing hold. “You were the beast, all along!”

“I may be a beast,” Black Cat hissed, “but you are the true monster.”

He allowed his claws to glow bright green with fire, and Tang Xuan moaned in fear.

“This is for Mei,” Black Cat croaked in his ear, “and all those other poor girls you ruined.”

With satisfaction, he sunk his claws into Tang Xuan’s chest, and watched the flesh begin to melt under his touch. Black Cat could have listened to his screaming forever, but he had a promise to keep, so using his claws, he severed the head.

 

* * *

 

 

As soon as the soldiers entered the room, the fight was won, and Black Cat took advantage of the chaos to transform back.

Once candles were re-lit, Prince Liang presented the head to Xian Pu. “I’m sorry I didn’t allow you the chance to do it yourself,” he apologised. “I lost control in the heat of the moment.”

“I understand,” Xian Pu nodded, wiping a splash of blood from her cheek. “I’m just relieved to see the bastard is dead. I’ll offer this at my sister’s grave.”

“I release you from my service,” Prince Liang said, laying a hand on her shoulder. “Thank you for everything.”

“If you ever have need of me, please write,” Xian Pu bowed. “It’s an honour to serve your highness.”

 

* * *

 

 

After a few days of sewing, Mei was feeling more like herself. She had ventured to the kitchen, where her friends immediately descended on her.

“We heard the terrible news,” Ai said, tears in her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Mei. What misfortune that your husband died of illness while away from the palace….”

Mingzu stroked her back. “Let us know if there’s anything we can do.”

Mei smiled weakly, and accepted their kind touches and words. She wasn’t brave enough to share the real reason her marriage was over, and she was glad the Prince had protected her with an alibi.

Mei was returning to her room when she was stopped by an older man she had never seen before, in medical robes.

“Chen Mei?” he enquired politely. “I’m here on behalf of the Prince.”

The seamstress flushed. “Who are you?”

“Zhen Qian, the Prince’s personal doctor,” the old man smiled kindly. “May we talk over some tea?”

Nodding, Mei led the doctor to the artisan quarters. Not wishing to be left alone with him, the seamstress took him to the room they used for meals. It was bare, with a low table and some floor cushions, but the doctor made himself at home while Mei poured some green tea.

“Why did the Prince send you?” the seamstress asked. She was embarrassed just thinking about it: was it because he had seen her so hysterical, and was worried for her health?

The doctor cleared his throat. “My dear, you are aware of the fact that Tang Xuan had several wives before yourself, correct?”

Mei nodded, feeling numb.

“You are young, so you may not be aware of this, but there are illnesses that can be passed along in the marital bed. Of course, if Tang Xuan had only slept with maidens, this would not be the case, but it has come to our attention this may not be so.”

Mei held the cup tightly, feeling the hot tea burning her palms, but the rest of her body was cold.

“If you will allow it, I can examine you to check you are free from these illnesses. Or, I can treat any before they become life-threatening.” 

Mei swallowed, trying not to cry. It was bad enough that the Prince knew she was no longer pure, but now he believed she was, in fact, unclean?

“There may be nothing,” the doctor reassured her, patting her hand. “But we should check, my dear. Especially if you wish to have children in the future.”

Mei squeezed her eyes closed. The thought of having to do that act with another man made her feel physically sick.

“Are there any female doctors?” she asked, her voice trembling.

Zhen Qian smiled gently. “My daughter can assist me, if you would prefer.”

 

* * *

 

 

Prince Liang was sad to see Xian Pu go, but he knew her greatest wish was to return to her family and honour her sister. Although he trusted the soldiers, he didn’t feel as safe in their company without the assassin by his side, and he was glad when the palace was in their sights.

After instructing the groomsman and taking a long bath, Liang reported to his father, who was pleased with his efforts. As the night drew in, the Prince summoned the doctor, wishing to ease the nagging worry that had bothered him since the brothel. They had paid the madam for the damages, and Liang had given them enough coin to ensure they would eat well for the rest of the month. But seeing the condition of the girls pulled at his heartstrings, and he wished there was more he could do. The Prince had to keep his identity a secret however, and he decided to consult his father on the matter.

“Zhen Qian,” the Prince greeted the doctor. “Do you have news?”

“Your highness,” the doctor bowed. “I do. Myself and my daughter examined Chen Mei, and thank the gods, she has not contracted anything that we can detect.”

“Ahh…” Prince Liang felt relief wash over him, and for some reason, tears welled in his eyes. “Thank you, doctor.”

“However…” Zhen Qian continued. “It is clear she has suffered trauma from the ordeal. Indeed, she has been torn internally and there is bruising. I recommend she rests as much as possible, and I will prescribe some calming herbs.”

“Thank you,” Prince Liang said, glad that Tang Xuan was dead. Like Plagg, he only wished he could have made the death more painful.

Zhen Qian bowed and left the Prince to his thoughts. He was idly copying a poem to try and soothe his mind when Ting entered the room.

“Chen Mei is here,” his servant said in hushed tones. Her eyes were wide. “She seems…upset.”

Prince Liang felt his heart hiccup in his chest. “Let her in, but distract the guards.”

Ting nodded, and departed. The royal immediately straightened his robes and brushed his fingers through his loose hair. He was glad he had bathed, and wondered why he was suddenly nervous.

“Your Highness,” Mei entered the room and bowed before him. He was glad to see she was wearing her green and pink seamstress robes, her hair in their familiar twin twists.

“Is everything all right?” the Prince asked, urging her to rise.

Mei nodded, but her lip wobbled and betrayed her thoughts. “Your highness, you told me that we are friends, and I believed your promise. May I ask respectfully, then, why you had a doctor examine me?”

Liang blinked, confusion by this line of thought. “Because I was worried about your health, of course.”

Mei’s hands fisted on her knees, she swallowed before staring at him straight in the eyes. Her cheeks were pink, and her voice shook when she spoke. “But why would a doctor need to check if I can bear children, when you promised I would not marry?”

“Oh, Mei,” the Prince chuckled, but she misinterpreted his reaction, and rose to her feet.

“I know I am worth nothing in this world,” the seamstress cried, “but I still have my pride, and I refuse to be married again just because it pleases you!”

She made to leave the room, but Liang was already at her side, holding her by the elbow.

“Mei, wait,” the Prince told her, touching her hot cheek. A tear leaked from her eye, and he caught it with his finger. “I swear on my life, my only intention was for your health.”

“Are you satisfied, now that I am clean?” Mei retorted, stepping back from his reach. “Is that why you stayed away from me, these last few days?”

The Prince swallowed. “I understand why you are angry, Chen Mei. I never wished to put you through more hurt and pain, believe me. But I have been absent from the palace because I was searching for Tang Xuan.”

“What?” the seamstress said, shocked.

“I found him,” Liang told her. “And I killed him.”

“Your highness…” Mei gasped, sinking to the floor. He quickly knelt beside her, and offered her water, but she shook her head.

“I realise it’s not much to offer, after what he did,” Prince Liang told her. “But I thought you might at least sleep easier, knowing he was no longer of this world.”

Mei stared at him, in awe.

“And just so you know…” the Prince told her, kissing her fingertips. “Even if you were sick, I would still visit you. Even if you had contracted something, I still would want to touch you…”

“Your highness…”

“It would not please me if you were to marry,” Liang told her honestly, his eyes darkening. “I only wish you to remain by my side.”

Mei nodded, more tears trickling down her face. Her anger had left her, and she was weak from his affections. “I… I only wish to serve you, my prince.”

“Mei…” Liang gasped, unable to hold back. He tilted her head and softly pressed his lips against hers, his heart hammering in his chest. The seamstress latched her arms around his neck, and the Prince held her close, feeling the world shatter around him. Everything about Mei engulfed him: her scent, her warmth, her taste. He could feel the seamstress trembling in his arms, and he picked her up easily and carried her to the bed, laying down beside her.

“I won’t hurt you, Mei,” he whispered, stroking her hair. “I promise, I’ll never hurt you.”

The seamstress shyly touched his face, and smiled. “I know,” she said, leaning forward to place a chaste kiss against his lips.

“Your Highness…” Ting’s voice called warningly from the doorway.

“I will sleep now,” the Prince replied. “Please extinguish the candles.”

His body protected Mei’s from view, and the light left the room along with the servant’s footsteps.

“Sleep, Chen Mei,” the Prince told her, tucking her head under his chin while he rubbed circles against her back.

* 

Plagg, who was curled up on a cushion, sensed another god in the room. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wish I had a Prince Liang right now <3

**Author's Note:**

> Like this fic? Subscribe to my newsletter for exclusive content! ^^ goo.gl/oaP8EQ


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